


Love is Strange

by Angel_of_Fate



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: F/M, butterfly bog
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-04-09 21:12:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 52,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4364321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angel_of_Fate/pseuds/Angel_of_Fate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haunted house AU based on The Ghost and Mrs. Muir. </p><p>Marianne and Dawn, still reeling from their father's death and desperate to get away from their interfering family decide to find a place of their own. Boggart Cottage is a perfect ten; Fully furnished, ocean view, no annoying neighbors. There's only one problem: It's haunted by the previous owner, Greg Boggart, a rough sea captain who wanted his home to be a place for retired sailors, NOT two women. Marianne and Bog clash, both refusing to back down, but little do either know more is going on beneath the surface than it seems. A curse, hundreds of years old, binds them together and a mysterious woman is determined to keep them apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to abutterflyobsession for the lovely prompt idea. Go check out her art school AU if you haven't already!
> 
> Now, on with the story!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: I am changing up the order of events in this story for better clarity. So things are different now, for anyone who is confused.
> 
> Trathnona=Evening and Maidainn=Morning in Irish...I'm fairly sure that Marianne's name would have been Dusk or something of the like if not for the fact that her name had to be Marianne for the song in the movie to work. After all, Dawn's wing colors are the color of dawn and Marianne's are the color of twilight - so hence Trathnona. 
> 
> I worked so so hard on this chapter. I hope you guys liked! Oh, and the whole bit about needing Roland to bring her to Scotland? You can blame my husband for that idea, so it's not my fault!

“Trathnona, mooove. I can’t see!”

“Madainn, hush! They’ll hear us!” Trathnona whispered furiously, her dark purple and black wings fluttering nervously as she pried the door open a little more.Their mother had told them that on no uncertain terms were they to even leave their room while she was meeting with the dark and grey courts, so naturally they had no choice but to peek in on the proceedings.

Their mother sat at the head of the table looking bright and glorious, her sky blue and gold wings nearly glowing in the firelight. Next to her was their father, though as king consort he was merely there as a formality. To their mother’s left was the king of the grey court, Trathnona couldn’t remember his name, looking like some great tree had gained sentience and walked off from its roots. To his side was a smaller form that resembled an awkward bundle of twigs with a pine cone for a head. Gossamer wings sprouted from his back, which surprised Trathnona. Unlike the dark and light fae, grey fae were not supposed to have wings. Of course she had never seen any outside of a book, so it could be that the texts were not accurate. Or perhaps royal grey fae were the exception to the rule.

“No fair! The goblin king’s son gets to go,” Pouted Trathnona, “Why don’t we?”

“Probably because he’s gotta learn how to run his kingdom someday,” Maidainn offered, craning her neck to see past Trathnona.

“So do I,” Trathnona tilted her head up stubbornly. “Mother should let me come if I am to be queen one day.”

“Doesn’t he look funny?” Giggled Maidainn.

“Who?”

“The Goblin King’s son. He’s got a pointy head.”

“I’ve never seen any being like him before,” Trathnona said, looking at him appraisingly. “I don’t think he looks funny, I think he looks interesting.” In fact, Trathnona was fascinated by all the dark and grey fae who sat at the table; they were so different from those in the light court.

“I guess. Hey, where’s the dark king? I don’t see him.” Maidainn said, peering through the crack in the door.

“I am here,” A deep voice said behind them, making the two girls jump.

“Y-your majesty, I apologize…” Trathnona stammered while Maidainn scrambled away and hid behind a nearby statuary. King Oberon towered over Trathnona, cloaked in black robes that were tipped with burnished silver. He surveyed her with eyes that glowed a dull gold in stark contrast to his dark skin. Dark was indeed the right word – it wasn’t that his coloring was deep brown or even black - but instead the light in the room seemed to bend around him as if it were reluctant to touch his skin. His hair was of the same quality, running over his shoulders and down his back like a deep and dangerous river that looked calm on the surface but hid raging waters just beneath. Black feathered wings were folded behind him, and Trathnona got the feeling that when they were fully spread they could envelope her whole with room to spare.

Without realizing she was moving she found herself taking another step back. He was terrifyingly beautiful, and she was equal parts fascinated and petrified. One part of her wanted to run to her room and never disobey her mother again, but the other part wanted to touch his skin in the same way she felt drawn to touch a flame just to see what it felt like. She had seen those with dark skin before - the light court had many such – but every skin tone was overlaid with a golden sheen that seemed to glow from the inside out; nothing like the being who stood before her now.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” an imperious voice said from behind the towering figure of Oberon. A slim girl, about the same age as Trathnona, walked around Oberon and sneered, her eight eyes narrowing as she first took in Maidainn behind the statuary before finally settling on Trathnona.

“Damhan Alla,” Oberon said sharply, and the girl flinched, retreating back behind Oberon.

The dark king turned his gaze back on Trathnona, “Go back to your room, little one, and I will not tell your mother of your disobedience. If it were up to I, you would be joining us along with my daughter and Bogach, but you must obey your mother in all things.”

Trathnona gulped, “Yes, your majesty.”

His gaze left her eyes and went to rest on her deep purple wings. His expression was shrewd and piercing, as if he had a question that he already knew the answer to but wanted to force the answer out of her all the same. Trathnona folded her wings self-consciously and bowed, grabbed Maidainn when it was clear that she wasn’t moving under her own volition and they backed away until they were around the corner. Maidainn slid down the wall and Trathnona started to pace with her hands over her mouth, eyes wide.

Maidainn looked up at her sister, worry marring her normally carefree face. “Do you really think he won’t tell?”

Trathnona was silent, the reassurances she wanted to give her sister stuck in her throat. The way he had looked at her – as though one glance was all it took to know her very soul – was vexing to say the least. Trathnona tried to tell herself that he had only looked at her like that because her wings were unique to a light fae such as herself. Her sister’s wings, which featured the sunrise colors that were her namesake, were much more typical to their race. But something about his eyes wouldn’t let her put it aside – before she had backed away she had seen an almost possessive glint in them.

“We should have listened to mother,” Trathnona finally said in a small voice, stopping her pacing to sit down next to Madainn.

“I don’t think he’ll tell,” Madainn said confidently, misinterpreting Trathnona’s unease.

“Y-yeah,” Trathnona said, not wanting to further upset her sister. “Come on, we should get back to our room.”

~*~

Their mother was dying.

No one knew how, or why, but one thing was clear: it was time for Trathnona to begin readying herself for the coronation that would follow the inevitable tragedy.

Years had passed since that day in her youth where she had spied on the meeting, and that single solitary experience was all she had when it came to court politics. Oh, of course she had the knowledge. She could name every person in each court, their position, their stances, what they had done right or wrong. She knew which ones she could trust (very little) and which ones to avoid. She knew all the policies and alliances and strategies; but putting all that book knowledge to actual practical use was something else entirely.

“Stop fidgeting,” Maidann said, “You’ll muss up all my hard work.”

“I can’t help it. I’m nervous,” Trathnona said, clenching her hands in her lap.

“It’s just a silly ball.”

“Yeah, just a silly ball where everyone will be looking at me and judging whether or not they think I’m worthy to be queen.”

“It doesn’t matter what they think, because you’ll be queen anyway.”

“It’s not that simple, Maidann,” Trathnona groaned. “If I’m perceived as weak, the title of queen will be a title only. You need support to rule, you need the people to believe in you.”

“But you ARE strong. Remember your spar with Adair? You could probably give King Oberon himself a run for his money,” Maidann said, folding an errant strand of Trathnona’s hair back into the hairstyle.

Trathnona snorted, “I doubt that.”

“No, really! You’re not going to be just any queen – you’ll be a warrior queen just like mother. If anyone dares to challenge you they will suffer at your hand.”

Trathnona knew Maidann was trying her best, so she gave her a reassuring smile. The truth was, Trathnona wasn’t worried about physical strength. Physically she could beat most any other being in  
combat, but mentally she knew she wasn’t prepared for the strain of ruling a kingdom.

Her mother was a good ruler because she was strong in every aspect, but merciful when it was appropriate. She had fought on the battleground hundreds of years ago when King Oberon had tried to absorb the light court into his own, and she had forged the peace that still reigned to this day. She was so strong that Trathnona couldn’t understand how she could be losing a battle from within herself.

Trathnona stood up and Maidann fretted for a bit with her hair before finally backing off. She couldn’t start thinking about this again, not if she wanted to keep up a calm and confident façade.

“How do I look?” Trathnona asked.

“Imposingly beautiful. Look,” Maidann nudged Trathnona over to the mirror.

She could barely recognize the woman who looked back at her. Her eyes were shadowed dark, but the deep purple tapered into hues of mauve and rose towards the outer edges, like sunset on the edge of twilight. Her long hair was swept up in curls and tendrils, licking the side of her face as if it were flames or an ocean wave crashing against the shore. Her dress was long and hugged her hips before flaring out and flowing behind her. She looked…like her mother…only a darker version. She tucked her wings behind herself self-consciously.

“Why does it have to be dancing? Of all the traditions we had to choose, why dancing? Why not dueling?” Trathnona whined, sitting back down on the seat.

“Dueling? Really?” Maidann crinkled her nose, “What fun would that be?”

“You can’t judge since you’ve never tried it,” Trathnona pointed out.

Maidann shrugged, “Eh.”

“At least I can fight with grace, when I dance I’m always tripping all over myself,” Trathnona said, burying her face in her hands.

Maidann grabbed her wrists and shook them, “Don’t touch the face you’ll smudge it! Anyway, you’ll do fine! Dancing is kind of like dueling; only don’t hit your partner."

"But what if they deserve it?" Trathnona said with a small smile.

Maidainn shook her finger at Trathnona in an attempt to look serious, "Not unless they've compromised your honor. Now come on, we’re going to be late. Are you ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Trathnona said with a sigh.

~*~

Trathnona was still anxious when she entered the ballroom, but to her relief she managed to keep her face placid and confidant as she greeted the important members of the three courts. Despite her nerves she still was captivated by the variations of creatures that populated the dark and grey courts. The creatures of the light court all looked much the same with few disparities, but it was not so for the other two courts. From the small, frog like creatures to the large bird like creatures that walked on two legs with arms hiding amongst their winged feathers, the variations were endless.

Soon her fears were quashed by all the new visual information and before she knew it she was enjoying herself. If only she could convince her sister to stop flirting with every eligible man in the light court then she could completely relax. Even her mother seemed to be enjoying herself despite her ill health, as she sat above them all and surveyed the proceedings with satisfaction. She met her mother’s gaze and she gave Trathnona the slightest of nods and an encouraging smile. Trathnona was doing well; while her mother was a loving parent she was not one to give her approval or praise unless it was earned. Trathnona didn’t have to worry; she could do this after all. Even so she was beginning to feel the strain of having to take in so much in such little time, so she decided to step out to the balcony for a moment to get a breath of fresh air.

Night was just beginning to fall, a slip of pink and purple light on the horizon all that remained of the autumn sun. Trathnona leaned on the balcony railing and breathed deep, enjoying the scent of exotic flowers on the air. The palace where the ball took place every autumn was a sort of meeting ground, a place of neutrality, so all around the premises were blooming gardens with the most beautiful selections from all three courts.

The predominant scent was light and delicate, reminding of spring. It was oddly familiar, but she couldn't quite place the scent. She leaned down to see yellow blooms directly below the balcony and wondered what they could be.

“Night-blooming primrose. Normally they only bloom in the spring, but the magic of this place keeps them blooming all year long."

Trathnona clutched the rail to keep from falling over in shock and slowly turned around. King Oberon stood behind her in all his glory, looking the same as that day so many years before. He held one of the flowers out to her, a tiny yellow spot of color against his dusky skin.

Hesitantly Trathnona reached forward and took the flower from him, her fingers brushing against his long enough to feel that his skin was smooth and cool, reminding her of the feel of a night’s breeze on a warm summer’s day. Again she felt a surge of curiosity that very nearly overcame her terror. Nearly. It was all she could do to make sure her fingers didn’t tremble as she cupped the flower in her hands, but she knew if she was to be queen she would have to overcome such feelings. She would be dealing with the dark fae king on a regular basis and it would not do to be petrified in his presence.

“I didn’t recognize the scent, but I know of it,” Trathnona said quietly, thankful that her voice didn’t shake.

“Indeed?” Oberon prompted. He took a step closer to Trathnona and she just barely caught herself from taking a step back.

“It is a flower of the dark fae court, and yet it can only grow on the border of our lands. It needs the shaded sun as much as it needs the night to thrive.”

“Very good.” He took another step forward and Trathnona had to clamp her legs together in an effort not to move. She couldn’t appear weak, most of all to the dark fae king.

“But did you know that the petals contain a hidden magic that only a few can obtain without destroying it in the process? A potion can be made with this magic, one of the most potent in all the realms. I cannot do it myself, but fortunately I have connections with one who can.”

Trathnona’s heart was hammering in her chest, “O-Oh?” She swore silently. She knew the calm façade she had managed to keep up so far was slipping, and there was nothing she could do about it. He was a hair’s breadth away from her now, and this time she was sure; his gaze on her was undoubtedly possessive. She had to get away from him, but she didn’t know how. If she were to call for help and she was wrong about his intent it would be an insult to his honor and could start a war. If his intentions were threatening the result could still be the same as he could play the insulted party as an excuse to start a war. Was that what he was doing? If so it was more important now than ever to appear strong and unfazed. Trathnona’s mind raced as she searched for a polite way to extricate herself in the quickest possible manner.

King Oberon plucked the flower from her hand and brought it up to his lips, whispering something in a language unknown to her. The flower drew up on itself before slowly blooming again, revealing a tiny vial of glowing pink fluid.

He contemplated the vial and uncapped it, “I don’t know who your father was, but he is not the man who sits by your mother’s side. Your mother would surely deny it to the end of time but your father was a dark fae. I can see it in your coloring; I can sense it in your blood.”

Indignation banished her terror and Trathnona narrowed her eyes, “You dare…”

Oberon continued, unperturbed, “This presents an opportunity for me that before now hadn’t existed. I could never take a pure blooded light fae as my queen, my subjects would never accept it. But you…” He smiled, the expression chilling Trathnona’s blood, “You are the bridge I’ve been searching for all these centuries. A royal light fae, next in line to be queen, with the blood of the dark fae running through her veins. It is perfect.”

Trathnona ducked and coiled her legs to ready herself to strike, but before she could he threw the vial at her face and the sweet scent that had been so delicate before hit her and now it was sickeningly sweet, overpowering all her senses completely. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t think. She thought she was about to pass out when a firm hand gripped her chin and forced it upward, and her eyes fluttered open.

“Your mother would never allow it, but she will soon be dead. I suppose I could have taken the time to seduce you, but whatever love I could engender within you would never be strong enough to make you submit to my will and I cannot have my queen subverting my wishes.”

“Of course not,” Trathnona said as she gazed up into his eyes, “Whatever you wish shall be done, my love.”

~*~

Trathnona had expected the king of the dark fae to be frightening, and he certainly was. But as she danced across the moon-lit ballroom held firmly in his grasp she found herself feeling something she had not expected; desire. Her senses were alight as they took him in; her skin hummed with sensation. His scent, earthy and deep filled her nose, his hair flowed around them like a dark river, the whisper of it on her bare arms raising goosebumps on her flesh.

It was hard for her to imagine that this time a few days ago she had been dreading her first autumn ball.

“Though our marriage will be one of convenience, I must admit that the moment I laid eyes on you I desired you,” He said softly into her ear, the deep rumble of his voice sending shivers down her spine. “I will relish taking you to my bed.”

“I cannot wait, my love,” Trathnona whispered back, glancing surreptitiously up to her mother who was watching their dancing forms with barely concealed disapproval. It was custom for princesses and princes to dance with as many important members of the courts as possible, but the dark fae king had dominated her time on the dance floor since he met her on the balcony. Trathnona knew that her mother wouldn’t approve, but that didn’t matter. He was the king of the dark fae, and she would soon be queen. Nothing could keep her from her love.

Of course it could not last. When the song ended Oberon pulled her away from him.

“I’m afraid we must part ways for a time, I have business to attend to.”

“Must you?”

“Yes. You will dance with others; you cannot let your love for me get in the way of your courtly duties. Dance, and I will soon return.”

Trathnona watched him go, his robes swirling behind him, and a terrible aching began. It was as if there were a string attached to her insides and the other end was tied to him, each step he took away from her pulling her more and more apart. She had to distract herself; her love had said to dance, so she would. She had no desire to dance with anyone but him, but she knew it would be okay because he told her to.

“May I?” A voice said behind her, and when she turned she found herself face to face with the grey king’s son, Bogach. He had grown out of his awkward stage, now long limbed and graceful. He was beautiful in an odd way, and Trathnona couldn’t help but to be again fascinated with his form.

She shook her head slightly. She didn’t love Bogach, she loved Oberon. Despite the fact that he was making her uncomfortable, she knew to refuse Bogach would be unwise if she were to keep with tradition.

“Of course,” Trathnona took his hand and he swept her out onto the dance floor.

“I’m honestly bored by all this dancing. What about you?” Bogach said after a moment.

Trathnona barely contained a bark of laughter from his sudden and blunt question. “Actually, I was just telling my sister earlier that I wished dueling was the tradition rather than dancing.”

Bogach smiled at her then, and it wasn’t like the fake smiles that she had been seeing on the members of the court all day, but one that reached his eyes and lit up his face. “What do you say to shaking things up a bit? Give everyone a little…show?”

Trathnona couldn’t help but grin at the idea, but hesitated. Would her love be upset if she did something other than what he told her to do? Even with the distraction she still yearned for Oberon to return, and the idea of upsetting him was highly unpleasant. Still, the lure of dueling a new partner was strong, and she knew Oberon wouldn’t want her to refuse and risk insulting the grey court’s high prince.

“Is that a challenge? Because if so, then I accept,” Trathnona waved her arm and her sword, always a call away, appeared in her hand. Bogach did the same, his weapon a long staff with piece of amber weaved into the top.

Trathnona made pointed eye contact with her mother to assure her that this was not a serious fight and that all was well. Her mother nodded with a small smile; Trathnona knew she would approve. Her mother was the one who taught her after all, and Trathnona noticed with amusement that she was already looking about the room to see how the other would react, glad to be a part of the ruse.

“Your insult shall not stand, princess," Bogach said in a commanding voice as he began to circle her.

“Nor shall yours,” Trathnona said, and with that she lunged towards him. He easily dodged out of the way and attempted to land a blow to her back but she whirled around and her sword met his staff with a loud crash. Enchanted wood, Trathnona realized, just as strong as the forged metal of her sword. They jumped apart again and this time Bogach took the offensive, feinting a hit to her legs and subsequently managing to land a blow to her arm.

Gasps of horror filled the room and Trathnona couldn’t hide the smirk spreading across her face. Bogach winked at her and she nearly snickered before gathering her attention again. She ran at him and jumped up as if she intended to land a blow to his head, but at the last second she dropped, slid between his legs, and came up behind him. This time she landed a hit on his side and he cried out in mock pain to the horror of the crowd around them.

Their fight continued on like that, and slowly the crowd caught on, going from shock to delight as they watched, cheering on one side or another. It wasn’t long before they were both exhausted, their weapons too heavy in their grasps to continue, so they played to the crowd, their weapons crisscrossed against each other as they leaned into one another for balance.

“Ready to give up?” Huffed Trathnona.

“Never,” Bogach panted. His eyes were alight with exertion and pleasure, and Trathnona felt something warm growing inside of her at the sight of it. It grew larger inside of her until it seemed to suffuse her entire being, and suddenly her thoughts of Oberon, which had been at the back of her mind the entire fight, disappeared.

She felt like there was something important she had to remember about Oberon, something he had said, but it was like sifting sands between her fingers. It was too hard to remember, so it must not be important.

She smiled at Bogach and he blushed. For a moment it felt as if is were just the two of them in the room, and Trathnona wanted nothing more than the lean just a bit further and…but no, that wouldn’t be appropriate. Not here, not now. From the look in Bogach’s eyes, his mind was in the same place, and he drew back.

“Well, I must concede. You are the greater fighter here,” He said with a gracious bow.

“Why thank you, I must agree,” Trathnona said with a wink that promised a rematch in private where they wouldn’t have to hold back for the sake of the crowd. She bowed in turn and they both banished their weapons at the same time, the crowd bursting into cheers and hoots.

Trathnona looked up at her mother again and a secret smile passed between the two of them that told her her mother knew what had passed between her and Bogach, the chemistry between them, and that she approved. If Bogach chose to court her, and she hoped he would, her mother would endorse the union. Trathnona was relieved; not minutes before she had been infatuated with King Oberon of all beings, and it surely would have been a battle if Trathnona chose him. Thinking back on it, she couldn't understand what had come over her; the dark fae king was frightening, not alluring. But no matter, she didn’t think she had done too much to over encourage him – just a few dances more than is usual, but then he was the king of his realm and as such required more attention.

Trathnona straightened and shook her arms out, releasing the tension of the fight.

“Would you, ahm,” Bogach coughed nervously, his confidence seeming to melt away now that they were no longer fighting, “Would you care to go for a flight around the castle? To stretch our wings?”

Trathnona grinned, “Lead on."

~*~

They stayed out longer than they should have; longer than what was considered proper. Trathnona knew she should have returned earlier but she couldn’t help it – she was enthralled with Bogach. Never before had she found such a kindred spirit. Talking with him was like talking with someone she had known her whole life, and as they flew they quickly fell into an easy but animated conversation. She wanted to go back out there right now, but she knew better. Her courtly duties called.

A slim, eight eyed woman walked up to Bogach as he landed and slipped an arm around his, “Bogach you were gone so long I was worried you got lost.”

Trathnona vaguely recognized her after all these years; the dark fae king’s daughter. From the look she was giving Trathnona right now it seemed she had no more respect for her now than she did on that day they first met. If anything she looked at her with more disdain than before.

“I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced,” she said coldly. “Damhan Alla, high princess of the dark fae.” She gave a tiny bow, and Trathnona gave one back.

“Trathnona, high princess of the light fae.”

“Ah, that’s why I do not know you; your mother did not wish to include you in court proceedings when you were young. Bogach and I attended every meeting. We practically grew up together.”

Trathnona’s eyes fell to Damhan Alla’s hand clutching Bogach’s arm possessively. Her meaning was clear: I claimed him long ago, he’s mine. But from the uncomfortable look in Bogach’s eyes it looked like the feeling was one-sided. Trathnona gave her a cool smile.

“Then you must be like siblings.”

“Yes!” Bogach said with relief, clinging onto the rope Trathnona had thrown to him gratefully, “For all intents and purposes. We learned much together.”

“I envy you; I always wished to be a part of things when I was a child but my mother was a tad overprotective. I suppose I have a lot of catching up to do.”

Damhan Alla narrowed her eyes, “Indeed.”

Bog cleared his throat, “Well, ah, we had all better get back to it. Our duties await.”

Damhan Alla slipped her arm from Bog’s smoothly, “Of course. Bogach, Trathnona,” She bowed to them each in turn but Trathnona didn’t miss the poisonous look she directed at her before gracefully walking away.

As Trathnona watched her retreating form she knew there would be some fallout from the day’s events, but she couldn’t bring herself to care as she watched Bogach. Whatever happened, it was worth it because she met him.

~*~

Plum glared at Oberon from her cage. Though she was terrified, she didn’t want to go to her death cowering in fear.

“Why didn’t it work?” He said slowly, carefully, his rage a cold burn just beneath the surface.

“I told you; every potion has a weakness. Besides, it was only a matter of time before she saw your true nature and that would have broken the spell just as easily as meeting her true love.”

“It’s imperfect. I know I can fix it,” Damhan Alla said impetuously. “Father, give me this task. I will make a potion that can override true love.”

“She was supposed to be MINE.” Oberon ground out, ignoring Damhan Alla.

“I don’t know what you’re so upset about; your plan will still go on as you set out. The light fae will discover the poison used to kill the Queen is cultivated from a plant that grows only in the Goblin  
kingdom. The two courts will go to war, and you will pick up the pieces,” Plum spat bitterly, “I don’t know why you had to drag me into this at all.”

Oberon began to pace, clearly agitated now, “They will pay. They will suffer for this. A century of war isn’t enough punishment,” He looked up, “The Leannan mallacht. That would do nicely for my purposes.”

Plum drew back, “No. No, I won’t do it.” She tried to flit away when Oberon opened her cage door, but he easily grabbed her.

“Perhaps a thousand years living amongst humans will change their minds. While we sleep they will be reborn over and over again, always apart, always alone. Damhan Alla, you shall see to it that they never find each other, and you shall have plenty of time to perfect the potion.”

Damhan Alla paled, “But…but to deny the great sleep…”

“You will accomplish the task I have set before you, my daughter, or suffer my wrath.”

Damhan Alla straightened, “I’ll do it to take back what is mine. Bogach WILL be mine,” She said imperiously, though her face was still fearful.

Oberon turned back to Plum, “You will do this, Plum. You will do this because otherwise I will murder them both and their deaths will be on your head. If I cannot have her, no one shall.”

Plum drooped and looked away as she rose her hand. A bloom of pink light grew in front of her and Oberon weaved his dark magic around it, forming a lattice of curling smoke that slowly tightened around the light until it was a small black orb that glowed pink.

“She will be mine. The kingdoms, the people, and her. I will rule them all, heart and soul.”


	2. Chapter 2

 

[cover art by the fabulous Molly Flood](http://mollykflood.tumblr.com/)

 

 

Marianne gazed out the window as the car slowly wound its way along the seaside road. It was a blustery autumn day, the grey clouds casting a steely color to the ocean and the wind whipping the waves into a white tipped fury. Even the brightly colored leaves on the trees seemed darken in the face such a day.

If Dawn had been with her, she would have accused Marianne of brooding. She wasn’t brooding, but honestly, it was the perfect day for it and she shouldn’t have to apologize for her mood.

It was hard enough already to stay positive with the events of the past year. The death of their father had been months ago and the cancer had been slow, but no amount of time could have prepared them for the loss of their only remaining parent. Dawn dealt with it like she dealt with everything: putting on a happy face. Fake it until you make it, as Marianne put it. Dawn hated the phrase, but that was what she was doing no matter what glittery description she wanted to slap on it.

Marianne dealt with it, as her sister put it, by ‘going hardcore goth’. Which was frankly ridiculous. A little dark eye shadow and a propensity for black did not a goth make. To Dawn, anything that wasn’t pink and sparkly was ‘goth’. Still, Marianne couldn’t deny that their father’s death had taken its toll on them both. Marianne had fallen into a deep depression followed more recently by a numb apathy. It was as if she had used up her emotional quota for the year and now she wasn’t able to feel anything beyond the most basic things. At first it was a relief, but she had started to worry that this was going to be status quo from now on. She’d be in a panic about it this very minute if she could muster the emotional energy. As it was, boredom was now her greatest enemy.

Dawn was concerned, of course. She even tried to drag Marianne to a grief counselor. But it wasn’t as if the counselor would be able to talk Marianne back into feeling again. Despite her fears, Marianne suspected it would just take time. After all, she had recovered from her ex-finance Gerard’s betrayal. She could recover from this.

Even with Dawn’s incessant attempts to improve Marianne’s mood, she still missed her sister. Dawn would join her in a couple days after she had tied up some loose ends back home. No, home was the wrong word. They had lost their home to the expensive cancer treatments their father needed. The place where they abided for a short time would be more accurate. Their father had no extended family to speak of, but their mother’s side of their family had offered to take them in until they could access the small inheritance their father had buried away before he started the treatments. Before the cancer ate away at his life savings until all he had left was his family.

So of course they took their aunt up on her offer. Where else would they go? Dawn didn’t have a job and Marianne was juggling college with a part-time job. Marianne didn’t make enough money to keep them in the apartment their father had rented and have enough left to eat. Staying with their aunt was the best option.

What they hadn’t expected was the “well-meaning” advice and the “good intentions”.

_Dawn dear, I know you wanted to take a year off after graduating high school but you really need to look into college. There are some very nice financial aid programs –_

_Why, I don’t see any reason why you would have to move out at all! You can stay with us while you go to college! Of course, you’ll have to pay rent eventually…_

_Marianne, you mean you don’t intend on finishing your degree? But you’re so close to graduation it would be foolish not to!_

And then, of course, the final straw:

_It’s been four months since he died. I know it’s sad, but you need to move on with your life. You can’t just waste away here._

Even Dawn was beginning to get annoyed with their overbearing aunt. They knew they couldn’t wait for the inheritance, which would mature in two years. So Dawn got a part time job at a local pizzeria and Marianne started taking on extra shifts at work. She had the time since her depression had flunked her out of her last class and she had dropped out of college.

The minute they had saved a reasonable chunk of money they got on their computers and looked at houses for rent as far away from sunny southern California as they could get while still staying on the west coast; not wanting to leave the ocean they both loved so much. When Marianne found a rent-to-own listing for a four bedroom house overlooking the sea in Oregon she immediately fell in love. The price was unreal for what the place offered, leading Marianne to believe that perhaps there was some sort of caveat, but she couldn’t help it. She had to see for herself.

She told herself that she was taking the trip to Oregon to look at multiple possibilities but she knew that wasn’t the truth. The minute she set eyes on Boggart Cottage she knew it was the one. Even if it was filled with cockroaches and spiders, she she’d still want it.

As they drove up to the cottage, that opinion was cemented further. Boggart Cottage stood almost proudly against the grey sky, and though it was obviously neglected it was beautiful and full of character. Although the tree in front was quite possibly the ugliest thing she had ever seen, and it was right in front of the bay window. She’d have to take care of that. The car pulled to a stop and Marianne got out, Mr. Thangly, the landlord, hesitantly taking step behind her.

“Can I make changes to the property? Like – like that tree there? It ruins the view”

The wind blew very hard for a moment and Mr. Thangly looked about nervously.

“Uh – if you like – you – “ He stuttered helplessly before unlocking the door and glancing at her pleadingly, “I suppose you want to see the interior of the house?”

“Of course!” What an odd question. Like she would drive for hours just to see the outside of it and be on her merry way.

“Are you sure I couldn’t show you a rental – ah – more appropriate for two young ladies? I manage some very nice condo’s north of here, and – “

“If I didn’t want to see this place then I wouldn’t be wasting your time by having you bring me here, would I?” Marianne couldn’t understand why the short balding man had been so reluctant to rent her the place if, according to the listing, it had remained empty for so long. He ought to be jumping at the chance.

Thangly reluctantly pushed the door open and Marianne prepared herself for what must be a terrible interior if Thangly’s reluctance was any indication.

Her footsteps echoed in the empty hall as she walked in, taking in all the details. Everything was dusty with neglect, but Marianne could tell the woodwork was gorgeous even beneath the layer of grime. The floors and stairway banister were a deep chestnut set against a dark green wallpaper; the color of the ocean when it was rainy but bright. Marianne looked up to see the house still had its original lighting, as the listing had said, and many of them were not electric. While the house was wired for electricity many of the appliances were fueled by gas. Which was a bit odd, but it didn’t bother Marianne at all. Dawn would certainly find the dimmer lights dreary but Marianne thought it added to the charm of the place.

The door suddenly slammed shut behind them and she jumped, Mr. Thangly giving a dismayed yelp. Marianne fumbled in the sudden darkness for her phone, lighting her way to the closest light switch and turning the dial so that the bulb flared to life. Her heart still fluttering in her chest and feeling slightly giddy she turned to Mr. Thangly to see his pale face dead serious, the dim light of the bulb highlighting the dark circles under his eyes.

“Are you ok?”

“F-fine. Fine. Shall we continue the tour?”

He led her into the living room, and as promised it was fully furnished. The furniture matched the home in period, not overly modern but also not old to the point of dinginess. It suited quite nicely, and Marianne appreciated the simple but comfortable nature of it.

“It’s not very updated, I’m afraid – “

“No, I like it.” Marianne said, walking up to the coffee table, “I thought you mentioned the cottage has been vacant?” she said, noticing for the first time a cup of coffee that had been knocked over, and a newspaper on the floor. From the looks of it the coffee had been sitting there like that for a while. Hopefully it hadn’t completely ruined the finish of the table.

“The last people to inquire about renting left in a bit of a hurry. They were only here for a night so I didn’t really count it as occupied…” Thangly was still looking nervously about.

And he didn’t stop in after to check the furniture for damage? What kind of landlord was he? Clearly he didn’t value the furnishings from the state of the table. Marianne shook her head. Perhaps he was a bit eccentric, but if a crazy landlord was the price she had to pay to get the cottage at such a steal she was willing to stand a little madness.

Marianne wandered back towards the stairway, “I want to see the bedrooms.”

“The bedrooms? O-okay…”

They walked up the stairs and as they reached the top step Marianne’s gaze met with a pair of blue eyes and she startled for a moment before realizing it was a painting set up in the hall. The man was older, perhaps in his mid thirties, his dark hair peppered with grey. His skin was weathered in the way that only days at sea could accomplish but his skin still glowed with youthful vitality, nothing like what she’d seen of the leathered skin of ageing people addicted to tanning. His eyes were a stark contrast against his tanned skin, quite striking, actually. They seemed to bore into her, as if they were looking to the deepest part of her and judging. He seemed like a very prickly sort of man, and Marianne found that she rather liked him for it.

“Who is that?”

“The late owner of the house. Captain Greg Boggart.”

“Oh? How did he die?”

“Supposed suicide.” Mr. Thangly said shortly, clearly uncomfortable with the subject. He kept looking around as if expecting someone to be listening in.

“Hmm…I wonder why?” Marianne said absentmindedly as she snapped a quick photo of the painting to show Dawn later.

“To save someone the trouble of assassinating him, no doubt.”

A sudden deep laughter filled the hallway and Marianne glanced sharply at Thangly, whose mouth was firmly shut, then around the hall. There was no one else with them. Fear uncoiled inside of her and she was overtaken by the urge to laugh at the unexpected intensity of the feeling breaking through her apathetic haze. She wasn’t sure whether to succumb to fits of laughter or run, but when Thangly grabbed her wrist and pulled her down the stairs she followed without protest.

The laughter followed them, growing louder and more menacing with each step. A sharp pop sounded to her left and she threw her hands up just in him to shield her eyes from the glass of the broken bulb. Thangly whimpered as he pulled her faster, each light they passed exploding until they were plunged into darkness again. Thangly fumbled at the door but it wouldn’t budge as the laughter swelled around them.

**GO AWAY**

The voice was deep and gravelly, the words shaking the house from the sheer volume of it. Marianne clapped her hands over her ears as it echoed off the walls.

“Please just open I promise I won’t bring anyone else here just please let me out I’m too young to die…” Thangly said in a rush as he shook the door handle uselessly.

Suddenly the door flew open of its own accord and they stumbled out, the door slamming shut behind them firmly.

Marianne's fear had melted away in the light of day and the desire to laugh won out. Mariann bent over, her hands on her knees as she caught her breath in between gasps of giddy laughter.  
One look at Thangly, panting and looking very ill, confirmed that he had been just as surprised as Marianne. So it wasn’t something he set up. The lack of camera crews revealing themselves told her this wasn’t some sort of reality show she hadn’t heard of. Excitement bubbled up inside of her as she considered what that meant. A guilty pleasure of she and Dawn was to load up on as much buttery popcorn as possible and watch those cheesy ghost hunt “reality” shows together. Of course they both knew the shows were just a set up, but THAT. That was undeniable. Marianne grinned. This really WAS the perfect place.

“It’s haunted!” Marianne said, delighted, “That makes it all the more interesting.”

“Interesting?” Thangly squeaked, “This house has driven me to drink. Four people I’ve tried to rent this house to and four people have fled. Boggart’s last remaining relative lives in Scotland and she keeps insisting that I keep on my duties as executor of the estate instead of selling the property and bulldozing this place. Rent to own is the only way I can be free of this place!”

“Scotland, hmm?”

“Yes! She keeps insisting, ‘oh when the right one shows up, don’t you worry, they’ll stay’. As if that is any comfort. You can see now why I didn’t want to show you the place. I was looking for perhaps a young man with a strong constitution - ”

“Hah! Most men I know would have been running for the hills by now. Anyway, you’ll be happy to know I’ve decided I want the place. Can I start moving in my things tonight?”

Marianne was glad she had planned this trip so that it could be one way in the event things turned out well. She had a car full of belongings back at her hotel and Dawn would bring the rest in a couple days.

Thangly looked at her, flabbergasted, “You can’t be serious…?”

“Yep! This is the place for me.” Marianne put her hands on her hips as she surveyed the house with satisfaction.

Thankgly was looking at her as if she had a screw loose, but as he was surely eager to be rid of the place he didn’t argue with her, “Sure, move in tonight if you want.” He said with a sigh, “But I won’t be held responsible if anything strange happens – “

“You know, all you’re accomplishing here is making me want to move in more.” Marianne said with a grin. She had always wanted an adventure. To explore. Well, this was the perfect place to start.

“Alright. I’ll take you back to my office so you can fill out the paperwork…”

~*~

A few hours later and Marianne was hauling boxes inside the house. It was suspiciously quiet now, as if the Cottage didn’t believe she actually had the nerve to move in after the display earlier. Looking back on it, she could have imagined the laughter, and perhaps the lighting in the house was just a bit faulty. Dawn was usually the one with the overactive imagination but Marianne was sometimes prone to a bit of fancy there and again. Either way, it didn’t matter. She loved this house and she was going to stay.

“You hear that, house? I’m here to stay, so no funny business. Don’t even try it.”

Thunder rumbled in the distance and Marianne savored the little thrill it gave her. If only Dawn could be here tonight. A dark and stormy night in a haunted house. It couldn’t be more perfect if it tried.  
Marianne placed the last box down in the living room and rummaged through it until she found the new light bulbs Thangly had been kind enough to provide. Of course, Marianne had insisted. Although she suspected she could have asked for a set of gold jewelry and he would have obliged at that point after the afternoon’s events.

She carefully pulled each broken bulb from its socket and put a new one in until she reached the top of the stairs. She glared at the portrait of the Captain.

“You see what you make me do? Having to clean up glass shards and replace the bulbs all before even getting settled in my new home. So rude.” She stuck her tongue out at the painting for good measure.

Lightening flashed, and for just a moment she could have sworn the painting changed. Marianne shook her head.

“Don’t you sass me!” She warned, trying her best to ignore the tension building inside of her.

Marianne made her way back down the stairs and sat down at the couch to inspect the table. The cleaner she had left to soak had loosened up the coffee but as she wiped it away she could see it was far too late. The sticky residue lifted and revealed a stain and water damage.

“That idiot landlord…” Marianne muttered.

At least now that the table was clean she could make some dinner. There was nothing better than a bowl of Ramen and a good book on a stormy night. Ok, well maybe some homemade chicken noodle soup would have been better but Dawn was the one who could cook, not Marianne. She didn’t intend on burning the place down the first night she got it.

Marianne walked through the halls flicking on all the lights as she made her way to the kitchen. Despite the fact that she enjoyed the haunted house thing she had to admit that now she was alone it did make her a bit edgy. These things were much better with Dawn around.

Marianne remembered that she still hadn’t texted Dawn, who was probably wondering what was going on. She fished her phone out of her pocket and sure enough there were six new texts and a missed call from Dawn. Marianne had the habit of putting her phone on silent to avoid having to check it, a trait which drove Dawn bonkers.

 **Dawn: How’d it go?  
** **Dawn: Is it nice?**  
**Dawn: Your phone better not be on silent again.**  
**Dawn: Answer your frikkin’ phone!**  
**Dawn: UGH! Why do you even have a phone if you never CHEEK IT!**  
**Dawn: … *check. Seriously though, you’ve got me worried. Do we have a bates motel type situation going on here?**

Marianne went through the phone files and sent the picture to Dawn.

**Marianne: Check it out! The previous owner of the house. Apparently he died here and you won’t believe what happened to me earlier!**

Immediately the phone lit up with an incoming call.

“Hello? Who is this?” Marianne taunted.

“AGH! How could you leave me in suspense so long? You suck! Is the place haunted? I wish I was there right now! TELL ME EVERYTHING.”

“Ok, ok, slow down.” Marianne said, juggling the phone while filling a pot with water, “Boggart Cottage is wonderful. I signed the papers so we’re all set.”

“I figured THAT out, now spill the interesting bits.”

Marianne proceeded to tell Dawn about everything that had happened that day, savoring her sisters hilarious and exaggerated responses.

“No way! You’re pulling my chain.”

“Ok, well maybe my imagination got away with me but it seemed very real.” Marianne said, rummaging around in the boxes to find the one that held the food.

“So what’s the mysterious previous owners name?”

“Captain Greg Boggart.”

“Boggart? What a weird name. Then again he was an odd looking dude…”

“What do you mean? I thought he was kind of handsome.” Marianne said thoughtfully, “He looked very intense with those steely blue eyes”

There was a crash behind Marianne and she jumped around. A box that had been stacked on top of another box had fallen and scattered its contents all over the floor. Marianne sighed. Of course that was how she was going to find the food box. She slowly started picking up the items off the floor.

“What? Seriously? You’ve got some strange tastes in men. Hey, what was that noise?”

“Nothing. Just old Greg knocking things over. I think he’s pretty miffed at me for sticking around.”

Dawn laughed, “Oh come on, you can’t really be serious about this haunting stuff.”

“Guess you’ll just have to come here and find out for yourself!”

Marianne finally found the ramen amongst the mess and placed it on the table. Now to figure out where the matches were so she could light the stovetop. Maybe she could convince the landlord to at least update the stove, but until then she was stuck with the old fashioned way of doing it.

“You sound better…more like yourself. It’s good to hear.” Dawn said seriously, and Marianne was surprised to realize it was true. She was joking around with Dawn like she had before…everything. It felt good.

“Yeah, this place makes me feel more like…me. It’s hard to explain. I really like it here.”

There was muffled cursing on Dawn’s end, “…oh I better go. Auntie is on a rampage about us moving and she’s headed my way. I’m gonna hide in the closet.”

“Good luck!” Marianne said cheerfully, and turned back to the counter as she ended the call.

Wait a minute. Where was the ramen? She had just put it there, but it was gone.

Marianne looked around and was about to give up when she spotted it on the stairway. She walked out of the kitchen and picked it up suspiciously. She hadn’t been in the entryway after she found the ramen. There was no way she could have misplaced it there.

“You’re going to have to do better than that Greggy boy!” She said, hoping talking aloud would help to ease her nerves.

Why did Dawn have to hang up? The storm was picking up in strength and the wind was howling through the trees now, the branches scratching ominously across the roof. She skipped back to the kitchen humming cheerily, hoping to dispel her fears with a little bit of goofiness.

“La tee daa! You don’t scare me you old grump!” She said in a sing-song voice.

There was an abrupt flash of light and the power went out in time with the following boom of thunder. Marianne cursed, pulling out her cellphone and turning it to flashlight mode. Of course one of the rooms that featured electric lights exclusively would be the kitchen. Marianne propped open the door so some light from the hallway filtered into the kitchen, lighting it dimly and casting strange shadows on the walls.

“You know what? No. Nope! I’m gonna enjoy a nice bowl of soup and nothing will stop me from doing that!” She said a lot more confidently than she felt.

Gas stoves worked without electricity. She just had to find a match to light the stove. After some rummaging she finally found a small box. She lit the match and brought it down to the stove but just as she got close enough it blew out, the sudden flare of light gone and leaving her in the shadows again.

“Oh come on!” She tried again but the same thing happened. Marianne stood up and put her hands on her hips.

“If you think you can annoy me out of this house then you have another thing coming mister!” She said, frustration overcoming her anxiety, “Now you had better let me light this so I can have dinner like a civilized human being!”

This time when she bent to light the stove it lit, and she straightened with satisfaction, “See, now that wasn’t so hard, was – “ She stopped short when she saw something in the corner, illuminated by the flickering flames of the stove.

Marianne whipped around to face it, but it was gone.

“Wha – “

“I don’t think this constitutes a civilized dinner.” A voice said behind her and Marianne jumped with a yelp. She backed herself towards the counter, and, keeping her wits about her, grabbed a knife from the holder near the stove, brandishing it in front of her defensively.

There was a man in her house. A very solid, non-transparent, man. For a moment she thought it was a burglar but as she took in his face she recognized it as that from the painting.

“…Greg?” She said in disbleif.

“I didn’t realize we were on such familiar terms. Then again you seem like a very brash woman just coming in here and claiming my cottage as your own.”

“Well then, what should I call you?” Marianne said, trying to keep her voice steady.

“I prefer Bog. Not that it matters, because you will be _leaving_.”

“I will not! I'm paying to rent this house fair and square and you can't make me leave!”

“Do I need to continue my demonstrations to convince you?” He took one slow step towards her and Marianne raised the knife.

“Pfft! Didn’t even phase me. That stuff was so cliché. Maniacal laughter? Slamming doors? _Geeeettt ouuuuuuttttt_ ….” Marianne mocked, wiggling the fingers of her free hand menacingly, “What did you get that from? Haunting for dummies?”

Bog cocked his head to the side, seeming bewildered at her response for a moment before recovering with a sneer.

“And what do you think you’re going to do with that knife? Stab me to a second death?”

“You look pretty solid to me.”

“I’m not.”

“Are too.”

Bog rolled his eyes and proceeded to walk through the wall, and then back again, “There, satisfied?”

Marianne paled and lowered the knife, “Uh – yeah.”

“Great. Now pack your things and leave.”

Marianne shook off her surprise. Ok, so she hadn’t imagined it. This was for real. That, or she was having a mental breakdown. Either way, she had to fight it. Real or metaphorical she wouldn’t let any obstacle keep her from Boggart Cottage.

“No.” She crossed her arms and glared at him.

“No?” Bog threw up his hands impatiently, “Blast it all! What must I do, woman? Set the cottage ablaze?”

“You won’t do that. You’re obviously trying to scare people off because you like this place, and don’t want to share it with others.”

“Ooooh, brilliant deduction Sherlock! Thrill me more with your amazing powers of reasoning.” Bog said, his voice heavy with sarcasm.

He didn’t fool her. He was nervous because she was on the right track.

“Why are you even here?”

“What kind of question is that?” Bog said with a sigh, leaning on the wall and tapping his foot impatiently.

“Well, don’t ghosts haunt for a reason?”

“How would I know? Do I look like some sort of blasted expert?”

“Well you ARE a ghost..”

“Well if you’re so smart, then tell me what’s the meaning of life? You should know since you’re alive, right?”

Marianne frowned, “Ok, ok. Point taken. Still, you have to want something.”

“So what if I do?”

“Maybe we could make a deal.” she suggested.

“A deal? What madness are you spouting now?” Bog rolled his eyes, “I don’t have the patience for – “

“Yes, a deal. You let me live here, and I'll help you get what you want.”

“What I want is for this to be a home for retired sailors. So you can see how you being here would put a damper on that goal!”

“You could have written a will before offing yourself. Then you wouldn’t be in this position in the first place!” Marianne countered.

“I didn’t ‘off’ myself! It was an accident and the fools who found me just assumed the worst.” Bog muttered.

“You still could have written a will.”

“Well I didn’t expect to be dying so soon, obviously.” He growled.

“Well…” Marianne said slowly, “What if you let me live here, and when I leave I’ll do everything in my power to make sure your wishes for the cottage are fulfilled.”

“And when, pray tell, do you plan on leaving tough girl?”

“I don’t know. I might want to live here the rest of my life. I love it here.”

Bog grumbled loudly, “The rest of your life?”

“How else do you expect to get your way? You can scare off people till you’re blue in the face but that won’t turn the house into a place for retired sailors. Mr. Thangly wanted it bulldozed to the ground.”

Bog snorted, “That simpering fool? He wouldn’t dare.”

“Maybe not. But if he can’t rent it out to anyone it’s bound to happen someday.”

Bog seemed to consider for a moment, then he sighed, “You may have a point.”

“Right!” Marianne brightened, “So we have a deal?”

“On a trial basis!” Bog said warningly.

Marianne put up her hands, “Okay, okay.”

“And there will be conditions. I’ll have to think about it.”

“Fair enough.”

There was a sudden sizzling sound and Marianne turned to find the water boiling over. She turned the heat down and quickly added the seasoning and ramen block.

“Hey, one more thing – “ Marianne turned to see he was gone. She grumbled, “You could have at least turned the lights back on!”

They snapped back on after a moment, having waited just long enough after her request to startle her. The bastard.

“Oh, real mature!” She shouted as she dumped the ramen into a bowl.

Looked like she really had her work cut out for her with this place. The thought should have made her tired just thinking about it, but instead she felt excited about her future for the first time in months.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have made some minor edits to help bring later chapters into continuity with these earlier chapters - hope it helps!

_“Trathnona,” A whispered voice, dark and seductive. In the shadows dark wings fluttered and Marianne knew that whatever hid there wasn’t good. Then there was a flash of pink, the smell of flowers – roses? She coughed and swiped at the air but the stuff filled her lungs and invaded her mind, filling it with – with_

Marainne shot up and tumbled off the couch, smacking her head on the side of the coffee table on the way down. She groaned and rubbed her head. What the hell? She hadn’t had a dream that weird in ages, not since she was little. She shook her head with a sigh – she needed coffee. She went about the motions of waking up, slowly sipping her coffee while halfheartedly unpacking the food and organizing the kitchen.

Bog was nowhere to be seen, but it was possible he didn’t come out during the day. That or he had sprung from the depths of her imagination to torture her. She’d had hallucinations before, right when she was in that weird place between dreams and the waking world but none of them appeared as solid and realistic as Bog. Plus Marianne was 99% sure she had been awake for the experience. No, Bog was real. It was just a matter of figuring out what his game was. If his weakness was that he couldn’t come out during the day, all the better.

Marianne sighed and stretched out her sore muscles. It was time to explore the upper level of the house and see what kinds of messes awaited her there. She never did get to see the bedrooms on the tour, after all. If she had been sensible she would have seen at least one of them last night but she just had to finish that last chapter.

The first and second bedroom were what appeared to be guest bedrooms. In the first room a skinny single sized bed and a plain dresser were the only pieces of furniture. The second was more generous; sporting a double bed, end table, a larger dresser and adjoining closet. That one would be a good room for either her or Dawn. On closer inspection Marianne noticed that all the furniture in this room appeared to have some carving incorporated into it. Maybe they were hand-made? That made the landlord's disregard for the upkeep and the subsequent damage to the coffee table all the more frustrating.

The third bedroom was actually a study, with a small writing desk and a wall covered in books. Marianne immediately started sifting through the books and after a few minutes concluded that it was a varied collection of classics and modern stories. Fiction, non-fiction, autobiographies – there seemed to be a little bit of every category. Some were paperback, but most were hard cover. They were probably worth nothing, as all of them were worn and clearly well read, but to Marianne it was like discovering a room full of treasure. From the looks of it, she may not have to visit the library for a while. Everything but the autobiographies and some of the non-fiction looked like it could be interesting.

She sat down cross-legged on the floor and noticed towards the bottom there were a few comic book anthologies. The Avengers, Batman, and…Aquaman? Marianne sniggered to herself.

“Nerd!” She called out, in case he was listening. She had never read any comics herself, but even she knew that Aquaman was the dorkiest and most useless hero of the comic verse.

Marianne took the other two comic books out of the shelf. She had finished her book last night and some comics would be a nice change of pace. She enjoyed the Avengers movies and she loved Gotham as well as Batman: The Animated Series, so it might be fun to read some origin stories.

Marianne set aside the comics for later and continued to the master suite. The minute she entered she decided she was calling dibs. She would move all her belongings in here and Dawn would have no choice but to take the other room. Marianne would fight her for it if necessary.

A four poster bed, huge and imposing sat in one corner. It was simple but elegant, the wood beams carved to look like trees with wrapping ivy and thorns around it. It was probably the most ornate thing she’d seen in the house. Downright decorative in comparison, really. Marianne ran a hand along the carving, feeling an odd sense of Deja-vu as she took in the amber encased at the tops of the posts. She felt like she had seen something like this before, but it was so unique that it couldn't possibly be the case. She gave it one last look before turning around to take in the rest of the room. In another corner facing the balcony there was a plush chair that looked perfect for reading on stormy nights. And oh, the balcony. Marianne swung open the doors and soaked in the sharp chill of the air, scented with the ocean breeze. Yup. No way was she letting Dawn have this room.

Marianne closed the doors and noticed a telescope propped to the side for the first time. It was made of shiny brass and had the antique look of a family heirloom. She peered into the scope and was about to adjust it to look outward when the sound of a cleared their throat came from behind her. She jumped and whirled around to see Bog. For a sparse moment he looked different – and there was a flash of iridescence behind him – wings? But just as quickly the vision was gone leaving Bog as he had been last night – looking rather grumpy. 

“Don’t touch that. You’ll ruin it.” He made to shoo her away but Marianne put her hands on her hips, standing her ground.

“You have got to stop pulling the Batman on me.” Marianne glared at him accusingly.

“The Batman?”

“You know, disappearing and reappearing behind me without a single clue of your presence until it scares the hell out of me. You ought to know. You have Batman comics in your library.” Marianne huffed.

“I’m a ghost. What do you expect, footsteps? I don’t even touch the ground, really.” Bog motioned to his feet, which were indeed hovering about a quarter inch off the floor.

“Oh, don’t pretend! I know you can make all sorts of sounds but you just don’t do it because you like startling people.”

The corners of Bog’s mouth twitched up and Marianne rolled her eyes. Yup, she was spot on there.

“That should be a part of our deal. No more sneaking up on me. Or Dawn!”

“Dawn?”

“My sister. We’re both going to be living here.”

“Whoah, whoah. You didn’t say anything about another girl. No deal. I won’t have two women living in my house.” Bog said, crossing his arms.

“Uh-uh! You are not backing out of this now, mister. I’m a package deal: me and my sister or you don’t get your wishes for the house fulfilled.”

Bog grumbled and stalked over to the window, looking out at the ocean.

“I haven’t even met your sister. For all I know she’s even worse than you.” He said petulantly.

“Worse than me? I haven’t done a thing to you and you’ve been trying to terrorize me from the beginning.”

“Terrorize is hardly the right word” Bog rolled his eyes, “Aren’t you the one who called my tactics ‘cliché’? Pick a story and stick with it.”

“I said trying didn’t I? In any case, there’s absolutely no reason why we can’t get along like two civilized…beings.”

“I’m not sure I’m done ‘terrorizing’ you yet. It’s fairly good amusement, after all. And I’ve got nothing but time on my hands.” Bog smirked, spreading his hands out.

Marianne wanted to slap that smug grin off his face, but instead she kept calm and said as disparagingly as possible, “Oh you poor dear. You really ought to stick to something you’re good at.”

Bogs grin froze then slowly fell into a scowl, “You were scared, don’t deny it. But perhaps I will take a different tack.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully as looked back out the window, “Ah, yes. I think I’ve got an idea right now. Looks like you’ve got visitors.” He pointed and Marianne followed his gaze to the car winding its way up the road. Her aunt’s car. Wonderful. So much for Dawn’s plan of getting Sunny to drive her up.

“Dammit, of all the poor timing.” Marianne turned to Bog, who was looking upward in a poor attempt to look innocent, “Don’t you dare try anything.”

“Who me? Why would I do anything?”

Marianne snorted, “I know better than that, now shoo. Disapperate or whatever it is you do.”

“This isn’t Harry Potter. I don’t dissaperate.”

“I’ll bet you didn’t even read Harry Potter and just watched the movies.” Marianne jabbed.

“Oooh, weak blow. You saw my library so you know better. You must be nervous tough girl. Perhaps you should just leave, and save yourself the discomfort?”  
He was grinning again. Dammit.

“Oh shut it! If you so much as try anything…haunt-y…I swear I will find a way to hurt you.”

“Making up words now, are we?” Bog laughed, “Worry not. I will do nothing of the sort.”

“Then what are you planning?” Marianne threw up her hands in frustration, “I know that look. You’re up to something.”

“You’ve known me all of one day and you think you know what all my looks mean? You know what they say about assumptions.”

Before Marianne could reply a knock sounded at the front door. With one last glare at Bog she rushed down the stairs.

She peeked out the window and suppressed a groan when she saw the look on her aunt’s face. Aunt Clarissa was probably intent on convincing them what a bad idea this was.

“What a dour looking old woman.” Bog noted from behind her and Marianne jumped for the second time that day.

“Batman, remember?”

“We haven’t officially agreed on anything yet, remember?” Bog smiled innocently. He was enjoying this far too much.

“I told you to poof! They’ll see you!” Marianne whispered anxiously.

“They won’t. People only see me if I let them. Only you can see me right now.”

“Well maybe I don’t want to see you.”

“Ouch. Better open the door, looks like the old hag is getting impatient.”

Marianne forced herself to smile as she opened the door, “Aunt Clarissa! So good to see you.” she said, hoping Aunt Clarissa couldn’t see through herblatant lie as easily as Dawn could by the look she was giving Marianne from behind their aunt’s shoulder.

“Of course I had to make sure you were doing alright.” Aunt Clarissa said with an indulgent smile.

“You could do a little better than that.” Dawn whispered to Marianne as they both filed in.

“What, this is one of my best smiles!” Marianne said through clenched teeth as Aunt Clarissa walked ahead of them and inspected the living room.

“Ha! If by ‘best smile’ you mean ‘the look one gets when they encounter roadkill’ then you’re spot on.” Bog said derisively.

“You stay out of this!” Marianne burst out, and clapped her hands over her mouth as Bog laughed uproariously.

“Whatever do you mean, dear?” Aunt Clarissa turned towards Marianne, looking offended. Great. She couldn’t see Bog so of course she assumed the question was directed at her.

“I – uh – I mean….”

“She said stay off the couch. It’s dusty.” Dawn improvised before giving Marianne a look saying ‘just chill she’ll be gone quicker if you do’.

“This place IS rather dusty, isn’t it? Shouldn’t you girls be living in some nice, newer apartments?”

“Well I only arrived yesterday; I haven’t had time to clean it all just yet.” Marianne said defensively.

“'Nice apartments?' There’s an oxymoron if I’ve ever heard one. Apartments are full of noisy partiers and children stomping around day and night.” Bog mimicked a child having a tantrum, stomping on the floor back and forth like a monkey. Marianne snorted as she tried to contain her laughter.

Her aunt stared at her for a moment, bemused, before continuing, “And it’s awfully large for two people, isn’t it?”

Marianne glared at Bog, mouthing, ‘stop’ before turning back to her aunt, “Well, why don’t I give you the tour?”

“I suppose.” Aunt Clarissa sighed, the picture of martyrdom. Marianne rolled her eyes before heading over to the kitchen.

Dawn rushed in gleefully, “Look at how BIG IT IS! And look, marble counter tops! Do you know what that means?”

“…What?” Marianne hadn’t noticed the counters before, but now that she did she found it a bit odd for the age of the house. Why update the counters but not the fixtures? Though it did look very nice.

“I can make fudge! The good kind!” Dawn said dramatically, throwing her hands in the air in a gigantic sweeping motion, “This place is perfect. I love it.”

“But you’ve only seen the kitchen, dear.” Aunt Clarissa pointed out.

“That’s all that really matters.” Dawn breathed as she ran a finger lovingly over the stove top, “This is so vintage! Oh, and cooking with fire is so much better. More even temperatures, you know.”

“I can’t wait for some of your famous soup.” Marianne mentioned with a small smile at her sisters exuberance.

“Perfect day for soup, I think!” Dawn agreed cheerfully as she continued to dance around the kitchen, taking in every detail.

“Oh dear lord this woman is practically barfing rainbows. No. No way. No deal.” Bog waved his hands to ward Dawn off. Marianne giggled, but thankfully this time it just looked like it was in response to Dawn’s eagerness.

“It is nice.” Aunt Clarissa agreed reluctantly as they left the kitchens for the upper level.

As they topped the stairs, her aunt crinkled her nose at the painting, “What is that?”

“What do you mean, _what_? I think you mean _whom_!” Bog bristled.

“Uh, the former owner of the house. Greg Boggart.”

“What an ugly man, and a poor painting to boot. Surely you’ll be taking it down.”

“You’re one to talk, hag.” Bog said, advancing on her.

“Don’t you dare!” Marianne said sharply. Bog stopped, grinning at her. Dammit, he got her again. Was that his plan? To make her look crazy in front of her aunt?

At Aunt Clarissa’s confused look Marianne continued, “Don’t you dare…try to tell me what constitutes bad art. I kind of like it.”

“HA! Liar.” Bog said.

“He’s kind of roguishly handsome.” Offered Dawn with a shrug.

They looked at each bedroom in turn, Bog trailing behind them and listening in but being blessedly quiet for the moment.

“How can you possibly afford this place, anyway?” Aunt Clarissa asked as they started back down the stairs, “It has three bedrooms and an office, _and_ it faces the ocean.”

“It’s actually very cheap. I got a good deal on it.” Marianne hedged.

“How? What kind of deal?”

Great, now her aunt was looking suspicious. Probably she was imagining Marianne trading sexual favors in exchange for free rent, knowing her aunt’s propensity for jumping to the worst case scenario.

Of course, it was a legitimate question and ‘Because it’s haunted’ wouldn’t be an acceptable answer, despite it being the truth. Marianne searched for an appropriate response.

“It’s – uh – it needs a lot of updating. But…but the landlord can’t afford to do it just yet so he’s renting it out until he can.”

“Well then it’s not a permanent situation.” Her aunt seemed relieved, “and when the lease is up you can come back to us, of course. Although it would be better if you came now, the next  
semester of college is about to start and there aren’t ANY colleges near here - ”

“I’m not returning to college, and we’re not moving back to California.” Marianne said, more sharply than she meant to, throwing her Aunt into a moment of shocked silence.

“Marianne, I have to say you’ve been acting very odd today. I don’t know if I feel you are…mentally able…to live on your own right now with your sister out here.” Her aunt was getting that sanctimonious look that always enraged Marianne. She clenched her fists and counted down from ten, knowing if she responded right away she would regret it.

“Just say the word and I’ll give her a scare.” Bog rubbed his hands together eagerly, “That’ll wipe that smug smile off her face.”

Marianne smiled and shook her head slightly at him. Ironic that it was her ghostly tormenter to pull her out of her mood.

“We’ll be fine Aunt Clarissa. I promise to force Marianne to go to a counselor if she needs it.” Piped in Dawn in a confident and jolly tone. Marianne glared at Dawn but she just smiled at her beneficently.

“Well – I suppose.” Aunt Clarissa fretted, clearly searching for another angle as they made their way towards the front door, “But you really ought to come back with me. Be reasonable, girls. You aren’t ready for this. Marianne, you're barely 22 and Dawn just turned 18...you're practically children...”

“You can stay here.” Bog said suddenly, “Forget the hag.”

“Really? You want us to stay? Both of us?” Marianne said, missing the enraged expression growing on Aunt Clarissa’s face at her words.

Bog sighed, “I know I'm going to regret this but - Yes, BOTH of you. We can figure out the terms of our agreement tonight. No more trickery, I promise.” He held up his hands in defeat and gave her a lopsided smile.

“No, I don’t want you to stay!” Aunt Clarissa said, her frustration building, “Are you listening to a word I’m saying?”

“Tell the old bag to shove off. Go on.” Bog gave her the thumbs up sign in approval. This time Marianne couldn’t stop the laughter at Bog’s comment.

“What on Earth is so funny?” Exploded her aunt, while Dawn looked back and forth between the two, confused and worried, “You’ve been laughing about god knows what since I’ve gotten here! Do you find it funny that I’m concerned for you? You know I know what’s best for you, if you would just listen – !”

“Nothing. Your concern is noted, Aunt Clarissa. Now if you could kindly shove off, that would be appreciated.” Marianne said with a sweet smile and Dawn clapped her hands over her mouth to hide her grin with a ‘o no you didn’t’ look plastered on her face.

“Well! I see how it is! Fine then. I will ‘shove off’ as you so kindly put it. You can give me a call when you’ve come to your senses and are ready to apologize for your behavior.” Her aunt said as she stormed out the door.

Marianne and Dawn collapsed into each other as they were overcome with fits of giggles.

“Her face!” Dawn gasped, “She looked so…affronted. It was priceless! Oh, that was so worth the hours stuck in the car while she lectured me.”

“Why didn’t you go with Sunny like you planned?”

“You know how she feels about Sunny. She found out what I was planning and forced me to ride with her instead.” Dawn frowned, “We had a great trip planned too. We were gonna sing our way through all our favorite musicals.”

Marianne shuddered. That did not sound like a great trip to her, but to each their own.

A minute or so passed as they watched their aunt angrily empty the boxes from her back seat and trunk before slamming the car door shut and driving off,

“So really, what is going on? Aunt Clarissa was right on one thing, you’ve been acting a bit weird today.” Dawn said.

Bog, who had been watching from the sidelines, approached.

“Can I?” he asked, and Marianne appreciated the small kindness of permission. It was almost…gentlemanly.

“Yes, you can show yourself to her now. Dawn, remember how I told you this place was haunted? Well, it really is. This is Bog.”

Dawn eyes widened in shock and then realization as Bog appeared to her.

“It’s the guy from the painting!” Dawn turned towards Marianne, “It really _is_ haunted?! We’re living in a legitimately haunted house! OH MY GOSH” Dawn jumped up and down excitedly, “Marble counters AND a ghost! I'm so excited!"

Bog buried his head in his hands, “What have I gotten myself into.” He muttered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to say, I'm having a lot of fun with the banter between these two. It'll be a shame when the drama has to start - dun dun DUNNNNN!!!
> 
> But don't worry, I've got a happy ending planned. You'll see :)


	4. Chapter 4

“Absolutely no more girls.”

Bog paced the room as he thought, Marianne perched comfortably in the armchair as she wrote down the terms of the agreement.

Marianne shrugged, “That’s fine. It’s only the two of us. We don't have any more sisters to surprise you with.”

“Marianne, you will occupy the master bedroom. Not Dawn.” Bog gestured to Dawn, who was bouncing up and down in her seat excitedly.

“Aww! Why?” Dawn whined.

“I’m not having some hyperactive glittery child mucking up my bedroom.” Bog crossed his arms.

“He’s got a point, Dawn. You can tell where you’ve been in the house by following the glitter trail. What did you do, bathe in it this morning?”

“I just like to be bright and shiny, nothing wrong with that.” Dawn pouted.

“I beg to differ.” Bog muttered.

“I found a bit of it in the soup tonight.” Marianne added, then stopped as something occurred to her, “Wait, your bedroom? Meaning…is that where you hang around usually?”

“Well it is _my_ room.” Bog scoffed, "What of it?"

“So how do I know you won’t be…peeping on me?” Marianne narrowed her eyes.

Bog gave her a withering look, “If that was what I wanted I could float into any house in town and get my kicks with a different girl each night."

“What, my sister’s not good enough for you to peep on?” Dawn joked, “I think he just insulted you, Marianne.”

“Of course she is! I – uh – I mean - she’s perfectly attractive, but - ” Bog started to turn red, “- but that’s not the point! I don’t – I would never - ” He glared at Dawn before stalking over to the window, tapping his foot furiously while Dawn giggled shamelessly.

“Dawn!,” Marianne cried, fighting the blush that was creeping across her own cheeks, “Ok, writing down ‘Bog promises no peeping’. What’s next on the agenda?”

“I can’t think of anything else right now. We’ll add more to it later.” Bog said, still looking flustered.

“Yeah, that sounds good. I’m getting tired anyway. Come on Dawn, I’ll help move your boxes to your room.”

The moment Bog was out of earshot (or her best guess considering he was a ghost) Marianne whispered furiously at Dawn, “What was that? Seriously?!”

“What? I think he likes you.” Dawn said with a smug grin.

“He doesn’t. And that’s beside the point. I know you’ve been trying to get me to go on dates since...Gerard…but come on Dawn. Bog is dead.”

“Yeah. A ghost boyfriend. Wouldn’t that be so romantic?” Sighed Dawn as they placed the boxes down next to the bed.

“No. It would be weird. Not to mention pointless. Please don’t start, Dawn. Please?” Marianne begged.

“No promises. It’s really fun to make Boggy blush.”

Marianne sighed, “Oh I’ll bet he’s going to LOVE that gem of a nickname.”

“Our Boggy Woggy ghosty wosty!” Grinned Dawn.

Marianne threw up her hands, “Ok, I’m gonna get to bed before he shows up in here and you start shaking things up again.”

“I luuuuurve you sister mine.” Dawn called after her.

“I love you too.” Marianne said, adding under her breath, “Which is very lucky for you, considering.”

“I heard that!”

“No you didn’t!” Marianne ducked into the office with a sigh. She’d need a good amount of reading to get sleepy after that mess.

“Oh! Uh – hi.” Bog said as she entered. Great.

“Hey. I was just gonna – gonna get a book.” Marianne said awkwardly, “If that’s ok, that is.”

“Of course. But…only if you could do me a favor?”

“What?” She asked suspiciously. He was looking at her almost earnestly and she wasn’t sure whether it made her uncomfortable or wary.

“Books are too heavy for me to…’pick up’. I can turn pages but I can’t get the bloody things off the bookshelf.” He gestured angrily towards the stacked books, “I’ve been wanting to read for ages and I haven’t been able to. Except for that magazine on the floor there. You can only read about new carving techniques so many times before you get sick of it.”

Marianne looked to where he was pointing, at some sort of woodworking hobbyist magazine splayed open on the floor. That reminded her.

“Hey…did you carve some of the furniture in the house?”

“Aye…” He said warily.

“It’s really good. Very p – uh – intricate.” Marianne was about to describe it as pretty but she was fairly sure Bog would not appreciate that descriptive term applied to something he made.

“Thank you.” Bog rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable with the praise, “It’s a good way to pass the time when you’re in the midst of the ocean. Other than reading, that is.”

“So…what book do you want me to get out for you?”

Bog reddened a bit, “The Aquaman collection.”

“Haha. Nerd.” Marianne said as she reached for it and placed it on the desk.

“Yes, as you said before.”

“Oh, so you did hear that?” Marianne snickered.

“I did. And I’ll have you know that Aquaman is not as wimpy as you assume. He’s misunderstood.”

“Really? Do tell.” Marianne grinned at him.

Bog crossed his arms, “And why should I? You hardly have an open mind.”

“Oh come on. Tell me. Tell me of the supreme manlieness of a man whose superpower is to talk to the fishies.”

Bog rolled his eyes, “And that is probably the extent of your knowledge about the character. Am I right?”

“…Maybe.”

“So I thought.”

“Well fine, tell me. Open mind, I promise.”

“For one thing, he can do a lot more than just talk to fish. He has superhuman strength and durability simply because he must endure the extreme pressures of the ocean. His swimming is so fast he may as well be the flash of the ocean.”

“Ok, so more superpowers, fine. What else?”

“He’s king of the seven seas. Earth is more than 70% water. You can do the math there, I assume. He commands armies, is a skilled tactician, and bears the weight of his rule well.” Bog thought for a moment, “He also possesses a magic trident that allows him to control weather among other things.”

“Okay, Okay, you’ve made your point. Not a wuss. But you can’t deny that Batman would beat him.”

Bog frowned, “Maybe.”

“He would beat him. He’s got a plan to beat every Justice League member.” Marianne said confidently.

“Who says?”

“The internet.”

“And we all know what a reliable information source the internet is.”

“I’ll have you know I got it from Wikipedia, the holy grail of completely true and accurate information.” Marianne said and Bog gave a snort of laughter.

They were silent for a moment as Marianne gave him an appraising look.

Bog raised his eyebrow, “What?”

“You’re just not what I expected of a salty sea captain.”

“I’m sorry I don’t live up to your stereotypical expectations, tough girl, but this is who I am. You can be plenty salty and still like comic books.”

“It just seems so silly. A nerdy sea captain. Shouldn’t you like, I don’t know, manly things?” Marianne taunted , “Like…wrestling sharks?”

“Who says I don’t?” Bog quirked an eyebrow and Mariane rolled her eyes with a laugh.

“Just open the front cover of the book, would you?”

Marianne stuck her tongue out at him, but did as he asked, “There, anything else your majesty?”

“No. I shall rule over the seven seas here in the comfort of my own office alone, if you please.”

Marianne laughed and shook her head as she left the office. Who ever heard of a comic book nerd poltergeist? Still, she couldn’t help but smile at the thought of their debate as she got ready for bed and settled in to read Batman.

~*~

A knock sounded at the front door, breaking Marianne out of her reverie as she job searched. She set the laptop down on the table and peeked outside to see Thangly there. Marianne sighed. What could he want? Reluctantly she got up and opened the door. Thangly looked rather fidgety. This couldn’t be good.

“Can I do something for you?” Marianne asked.

“I just – uh – wanted to see how you were getting along.” Thangly attempted a smile but just ended up looking slightly ill.

“Just fine. Nothing strange happening at all, I promise.”

“Oh, yes. I’ve convinced myself now that I must have just been having a bit of bad luck,” Thangly smiled lopsidedly at her, “I mean, it’s the 21st century. Ghosts aren’t real.”

“You are a fool with a tragically short memory.” Bog had come up behind him and was peering at him intently, “What nonsense are you up to now?”

Marianne ignored Bog as best she could, “Of course not. Is that all?” she asked, eager to get on with her day.

“Well - it’s just - I’ve been thinking, uh, you and your sister here all alone - ghost or no this place is somewhat remote - ”

Oh good lord. Was he trying to flirt with her? True, he wasn’t that much older than her – perhaps about a five year difference despite his premature baldness – but he was about as far and away from her type as he could get. Marianne looked up to see what Bog was making of all this but he had disappeared, which was very unlike him. She was sure he couldn’t resist the urge to pull a prank on her nervous landlord.

“ - and if you ever needed some - wanted some - company…” Thangly continued, unperturbed.

Marianne was wondering how she could head him off in a way that wouldn’t make him raise the rent on her when the sound of a car starting sounded from behind them. Thangly jumped and turned around just in time to see his car backing out of the drive which would aim it to plunge off the cliff and into the ocean below.

Marianne raised an eyebrow and sighed. Looked like Bog couldn’t resist after all. Still, she couldn’t help but giggle as Thangly chased after the car, screaming the entire way. Just at the last second the car swerved before going off the cliff and continued backing down the road with Thangly close behind, the car going just fast enough so that he couldn’t quite reach it.

After Thangly was far in the distance Marianne could faintly see him pull open the door and drive off, the sound of wheels squealing audible even from so far off.

Bog reappeared laughing uproariously, and Marianne hid her smile behind her hand, determined not to encourage such behavior even if it was both helpful and hilarious.

“That wasn’t very nice.” Marianne said as sternly as possible.

“But it _was_ funny. Besides he was asking for it! Writing off my existence as fancy after only a few days. Pah!" Bog crossed his arms, "That and the frightful way he was trying to flirt with you.” Bog shuddered, “Not a woman on Earth could want that man’s attentions.”

“Oh come on, he isn’t _that_ bad.” Despite her total disinterest in Thangly she was beginning to feel a bit bad for him.

“He is.”

“He is not.”

“You’re just jeaaaalouuuuussssss!” Dawn said in a singsong voice as she skipped up behind them. Looks like she had awakened from her nap just in time to cause problems.

“Nonsense!” Bog said, but his face was turning a pale ghostly red as he backed away from Dawn, “Don’t get near me you wee glitter fairy.”

“It’s not as glitter can stick to you.” Dawn said.

“I’m pretty sure glitter doesn’t follow the laws of physics.” Marianne pointed out, glad to be on a different subject.

“Oh come on! I don’t use THAT much glitter.”

“You really do, though” Said Marianne dryly.

“Have to agree with her.” Bog nodded sagely.

“You two stop ganging up on me!” Dawn pouted.

“Fine, fine. Now that you’re awake we can get back to cleaning!” Marianne said in a mock cheerful tone and Dawn groaned.

“Nooooo! Unfair punishment!”

“Not punishment, fun! It’s time to clean clean clean like - ” Marianne started.

“ – A big green mean machine!” Dawn finished cheerfully before they both paled, their cheerfulness evaporating instantly.

“I’ll – uh – go get the broom and start upstairs!” Dawn said, forcing a smile on her face before scampering off.

Marianne started walking slowly back towards the house, but she didn’t have the heart to go inside and face Dawn’s fake cheeriness so she sat on the porch swing instead, her head in her hands.

After a few minutes Bog approached her, politely making footstep sounds as he came. Marianne looked up without thinking and Bog started when he saw Marianne's tear-stained face. He fiddled with his hands awkwardly and Marianne turned her head, embarrassed for him to see her like this.

“W-what - uh - what's wrong?"

Marianne swiped at her eyes, frustrated, “Every time I think I’m over it, I’m not.” she said bitterly, more to herself than Bog, “How can I get over it when the littlest thing brings it all up again?”

“Brings what up?” He sat down next to her, still seeming unsure of what to do with his hands. They fluttered around for a moment before he patted the air above her shoulder, then tightly clasped them in his lap as if reigning in an errant dog.

Marianne looked up at Bog, and almost wanted to smile at his awkward sincerity. It was plainly obvious that for all his roughness it bothered him to see tears and he had no idea what to do with a crying woman. It almost made up for the infuriating fact that she was losing it in front of someone she barely knew.

“My dad died a few months back. Whenever he wanted to get us to clean he’d say that. It was kind of like our own personal cleaning mantra. It’s stupid – but it made it fun.” Marianne shrugged, “It’s dumb. Things like that shouldn’t make me cry, anyway.”

Marianne could feel the sadness draining away from her, and she begun to panic for a moment until she realized it wasn't apathy this time but simply the emptiness that came after an unhelpful cry.

After a few minutes of silence Marianne figured Bog had gone but then he spoke up, almost too softly to hear, “It’s not dumb. Parents are important. If my mother died - as annoying as she was – is - ” He trailed off uneasily, but Marianne understood what he was going for and gave him a small smile.

“Thanks.” She got up, “I’m – I’m gonna go take a nap I think. I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Marianne trudged back up to her room, her frustration with herself growing with each step. She had naively thought that moving to the house and away from California had fixed things. As if that was all it would take to stabilize her unpredictable emotional state.

"You're so stupid. Just changing your environment can't automatically make your problems disappear" She muttered to herself, "Idiot."

Marianne flopped down on her bed and threw her arm over her eyes to shield them from the bright light streaming through the window. Hopefully a nap would help her to feel normal again.

~*~

Marianne found napping to be harder than she first anticipated due to the fact that Dawn was furiously sweeping away at the halls outside her bedroom door. With a sigh Marianne got up and heaved open the door.

“Heyyy! You’re up!” Chirped Dawn, and Marianne rubbed her temples with a groan.

“Yeah, no thanks to you. Could you possibly sweep any louder?”

“Yep!” Dawn started sweeping the broom in huge arcs and Marianne rolled her eyes. Dawn stopped when she saw Marianne’s expression and cringed.

“Are you ok?”

“No Dawn. And neither are you. Are we really going to talk about this? Because it’s kind of pointless, don’t you think?”

“I’m fine!” She chirped, and Marianne bit back a caustic reply. Being mean to Dawn wasn’t going to help matters.

“Whatever. Anyway, have you seen Bog?”

“No, why?”

“Because I’ve got something to do, and I don’t think he’s gonna like it. Thankfully he never said anything about it in the agreement so it’s all good at the moment if I can do this fast enough.” Maybe it was time for a little bit of...active therapy.

“…What? What are you going to do?” Dawn said, curious despite herself. She followed Marianne down the stairs, out the door, and into the tool shed. When Marianne hefted an axe up Dawn’s eyes widened.

“Marianne…what are you going to do?”

“I’m gonna get rid of that damn ugly tree.” Marianne turned towards Dawn, “Quit hovering around me, would you? Keep lookout for Bog if you want, whatever. Just leave me alone for now.”

“Okayyyyy…guess I better listen to the crazy lady with the axe.” Dawn said and skipped out.

Dawn was always going on and on about how she was worried about Marianne, how Marianne had problems when Dawn wouldn’t even acknowledge her own feelings. How was that healthy? It was infuriating. All Marianne wanted was to have someone to talk to about it, someone who could understand, not some stupid therapist but someone who had gone through the loss right with her. Someone as close to the situation as she was. But Dawn refused.

She was mad at Dawn, but even angrier at herself. She felt weak even wanting Dawn’s help. That she had all these intense emotions followed by periods of nothingness and she couldn’t do anything to control it.

Marianne deftly lifted the axe, thankful for all those camping trips back when mom was still alive. Chopping wood had been a favorite, if unorthodox, childhood pastime for Marianne on those trips.

She wound back and threw all of her weight into the swing of the axe, reveling in the satisfying thunk and the reverberation of the blow traveling up her arms. She hit again and again, chips of wood flying, sweat streaming down her face. Distantly she heard screaming, feral yells, and after a moment she realized it was her. The weight of the axe shifted and she swung it down, nearly falling over as it caught her off guard. She looked down to find he axe wasn't an axe any more - it was a sword with intricate weaving patterns at the hilt.

"Whaa - what the fuck?" Marianne whispered, dropping the sword and backing away. Before she could begin to wonder what had happened she had to jump out of the way of the tree, which had been hanging on by a thread before crashing to the ground. Marianne wiped her brow and looked at the tree, which had missed her by mere inches, and the only thing she could do was stand back and laugh.

“Is this how you act after a near death experience?” Dawn squealed, running out the front door, “What is wrong with you?”

At Dawn’s bewildered look Marianne began to laugh harder, “Your face! You should have seen it when I lifted up the axe! For a second you looked convinced that I was possessed by the ghost of an axe murderer!” Marianne glanced down at the axe, which was again definitely axe-shaped. Was it happening again? The waking hallucinations? She knew Bog was real because Dawn saw him too, but the sword thing...She shook it off and lifted the axe, waving it menacingly at Dawn while imitating scary violin music.

Dawn looked like she was trying to keep a serious expression, but a smile broke through and she giggled, “Yeah, you looked pretty scary there for a minute. I sure would not have wanted to be that tree!”

“Just think of how much nicer the view will be out the bay window now.” Marianne was feeling a lot better now. She reminded herself that she really needed to get back into kickboxing because exercise seemed to be her thing. Way better than having a sob-fest. Thinking back on it, she wasn't even sure why she stopped.

“Yeah.” Dawn said, “Now come on, you look like you need a good drink of water”

“And a shower.” Marianne said as they both went back inside. Best she enjoy the quiet for now, because she was positive that Bog was not going to be happy when he saw what she had done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I really don't know a thing about Aquaman, so if I got anything wrong let me know!
> 
> I edited and re-edited the heck out of this chapter and I still don't know if I like it...but I couldn't keep it from you forever so hopefully I hit the marks I was aiming for!


	5. Chapter 5

_The smell was there again, the smell from her dreams before. Cloying and sweet it curled around her like a lover's embrace._

_"Night blooming primrose," A deep voice said from behind her. The scent brushed her hair aside and tickled her neck._

_Marianne tried to turn around but couldn't._

_"Who are you? What do you want?"_

_A chuckle, "Only everything, dear Trathnona."_

_Marianne struggled to move, "That's not my name," She growled._

_"Leave her alone," A new voice, familiar, but the figure was blurred in the way they sometimes were in dreams._

_"Stay out of this, young prince."_

_Again her senses were permeated with the scent, but this time it was stronger, and her vision went pink._

_"What did you do?!" the second voice demanded, but everything was spiraling away into darkness._

 

“WHAT DID YOU DO?!”

Marianne jumped awake, throwing the bed covers off of her in an instant panic, “Wh-wha…” The scent from the dream still haunted her, even as she was thrust into sudden awareness. She was having those dreams again. She didn't have long to contemplate why as she heard someone stomping up the stairs. Judging from how loud the sound was it wasn't Sunny or Dawn; it had to be Bog having a fit if he was going to the trouble to make footfalls.

She stumbled up and rubbed her eyes. What was he going in about now?

Bog burst through the door, and stopped when he saw Marianne, blushing furiously.

“Make yourself decent, woman!” He said, throwing his arm over his eyes, and, after realizing his arm wasn’t solid enough at the moment to block his view turned his back on her.

Marianne looked down. She was wearing an overlarge worn out concert T-shirt and underwear. The shirt nearly touched her knees. What was the big deal? Marianne shrugged and searched for some pants, finally finding some on the floor from yesterday and pulling them on.

“Ok, I’m ‘decent’” Marianne grumbled, “Why’d you wake me up?” Her mind was still feeling foggy from sleep and she knew that it was something important but she couldn’t quite recall.

“MY TREE!” Bog exploded, whirling around to face her, “Where’s my bloody tree?!”

The sparks finally ignited in Mariannes brain. Oh right, her little project two days ago. She had waited for Bog to show up all day after she had felled the tree, but there hadn’t been a peep from him since. He’d been so conspicuously absent that she’d wondered if he would ever be coming back.

“Where have you been anyway?” Marianne tried to keep her voice airy and unconcerned, not wanting him to know that she had been bothered by his absence. She made her way out of the room and headed for the stairs. She needed coffee to deal with this properly. Bog followed after her, fuming.

“Don’t try to change the subject! It doesn’t matter where I’ve been.” Bog floated in front of her and she nearly stumbled and fell in the effort not to ghost through him.

“Whoah!” Marianne took a step back, “Hey, it does matter! We didn’t know where you were! You just disappeared without a trace. You could have… I don’t know… moved on or whatever and we’d never know for sure!” Marianne said hotly. So much for appearing unconcerned. Her emotions were slow to awaken but now that the sleepy haze was lifting she was getting pissed.

“Don’t mind her, she was just worried about you ‘cuz she likes you.” Dawn said sleepily as she drifted past them towards the kitchen.

“STAY OUT OF IT DAWN!” They both said at once and Marianne clapped her hands over her mouth as if it were responsible for their brief verbal convergence.

“That’s – Quit changing the subject!” Bog continued, “Where I went was my business, now tell me - ”

“You could have told us you’d be gone!” Marianne wasn’t sure why she was getting so worked up about this. Honestly, if Bog was gone it would probably make things easier for her and Dawn. But him just disappearing like that had really bothered her and she couldn’t put her finger on why. She barely knew Bog. She hadn’t known him long enough to really be attached to him. It probably had something to do with her stupid emotional issues, she was sure of it.

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes and she rubbed at them with the heels of her palms. What was WRONG with her? Getting weepy about something so stupid. Again. It was as if the numbness of the past weeks was simply her emotions getting saved for later only to come out at every little thing now. Was it always going to be like this? All or nothing? Because it was exhausting.

“If I’m going to be gone a while next time I’ll tell you,” Bog stuttered, cowed by her tears, “I – ah – I’m sorry for – wait!” Bog started pacing, “What am I apologizing for? Don’t think you can work your way out of this with tears, tough girl! You have to answer for what you did.” He pointed out the window to the stump outside.

Marianne glared at Bog, “I’m not like that. I don’t know what kind of women you kept company with while you were still alive, but I don’t cry on purpose to get my way. It’s sick and manipulative and people who do things like that are creeps.”

“Of – of course you’re not. I didn't mean to imply - ” Bog blushed and threw his arms up in the air, “Damn it all to hells woman! Just tell me what you did to my tree! What were you thinking?!”

“I was thinking that the damn thing was ugly as hell and blocking a perfectly good view of the ocean!”

“Blast it all, woman! I planted that tree myself!”

“Why?”

“Because I wanted a blasted monkey puzzle tree in my blasted garden, that’s why!”

“Well you could have planted it in a better place than RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE WINDOW!”

“Monkey puzzle tree? What kind of silly name for a tree is that?” Asked Dawn, coffee in hand and looking as if she was watching her daily soaps.

Bog and Marianne glared balefully at Dawn and she threw up her hands in surrender, some of her coffee sloshing out onto the floor, “I know, I know, stay out of it Dawn,” She rolled her eyes, “You two already bicker like an old couple” She said as she took her coffee outside to the porch.

“Maybe I planted it in front of the window because I don’t want strangers looking into my house!” Bog continued, unperturbed.

“It’s called ‘drapes’! You know, it's this fancy invention that makes it so you can block your windows whenever you want.” Marianne swept her hand out to the ocean, “but I can understand your concern about people peeping in when your nearest neighbor is a MILE AWAY.”

“You had no right!” Bog spluttered, losing his footing in the face of Marianne’s logic, “I – I shouldn’t have to explain myself to you!” He paced back and forth agitated, opened his mouth as if to continue, then shook his head and promptly disappeared.

“Are you guys done? Can I come back in?” Asked Dawn after a moment of silence, her face smooshed against the front door and voice muffled, “It’s cold out here and my coffee needs more sugar.”

Marianne rolled her eyes and motioned her sister in.

“So! That went better than expected! Is now a good time to talk about Sunny, you think?”

“No way. I’m not talking to that grump about this. He’s dead! This isn’t his house any more. If we need to take on another room mate to afford the rent rise then it’s our business, not his.” Marianne said,

“Besides, the agreement didn’t say anything about more people…just no more GIRLS.”

“True.” Dawn shrugged, “I wonder why Mr. Thangly rose rent on us.”

“It probably has something to do with the fact that I rejected him and then Bog nearly threw his car off the cliff.”

“Ohhhh yeah! I remember now! Boggy bear was jealous.” Dawn giggled.

“Ugh. How many gross little nicknames do you have for the poor man?”

“A lot.” Dawn grinned, “I can’t help it! He’s just so adorably grumpy I keep coming up with new ones every time I see his face.”

Marianne would have felt sorry for Bog if she wasn’t so mad at him.

“Anyway, enough about him. When’s Sunny going to get here?” Marianne asked as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

“Later tonight. And the best part is that he already found a job! You know how he works at Pizza King?”

“Dawn, YOU worked at Pizza King with Sunny. You brought home free pizza every Friday. Why would I forget that?” Marianne said dryly.

Dawn waved her hand dismissively, “Anyway, it turns out the Pizza King in this city has been having trouble finding a good delivery driver who was willing to cover such a large delivery area. Sunny’s boss put in a good word for him and BAM instant job!”

“Man. He hasn’t even moved here and he’s already got a job? I’m still looking and it’s been slim pickings,” Marianne said glumly, stirring her coffee absentmindedly.

“Maybe once he’s there he can get me a job too! Maybe instead of making pizza I could try delivery!” Dawn said.

“Dawn, there’s no chance in hell I’m letting you near my car. Your driving is erratic at best.”

“Oh come on!”

“No way. Remember the last time?”

“No.”

“Exactly.” Marianne sipped her coffee, enjoying the warm bitterness of it.

“Ugh. How can you drink it like that?” Dawn said as she poured herself another cup and added a copious amount of sugar and cream, “Don’t you want a little sugar? Just a teaspoon?” Dawn hovered a heaping spoon full of sugar over Marianne’s cup and Marianne pulled it to her chest defensively.

“No way. Black is the best. How do you drink that without going into a diabetic coma?”

“Pfft. I didn’t put THAT much in there.”

“You put enough in there to make Willy Wonka look like a health nut.” Marianne said dryly.

“ANYWAY.” Dawn huffed, “So there really isn’t anything out there? Not even some chump job that you don’t actually want but might have to take anyway?”

Marianne carried her coffee cupped in her hands to warm them and made her way over to the couch, “No. Well, there was one thing but I don’t know if I could do it.”

“What?”

“The local newspaper has an opening for a freelance column.”

“That would be perfect! You practically have a degree in journalism!”

“Yeah, but they want it to be fiction. Like, a 3,000 word chapter every week. I didn’t get into journalism to write about mythical creatures or spacemen. I want to write about facts.”

“Booooooring!” Dawn intoned.

“It is not!”

“Is so.” Dawn’s phone buzzed and she answered it, much to Marianne’s relief. She’d had this argument with Dawn before and wasn’t too keen on repeating it.

“Sunny! Hey, how’s it going? Where are you right now? Really? Cool, so when - ” Dawn trailed off as she wandered about the house, leaving Marianne alone in the living room with her thoughts, which inevitably turned back to Bog.

What was the big deal anyway? It was just some ugly tree. It wasn’t as if Bog owned the house any more; he was dead. Why should it matter if she cut down a tree, or even painted the house pink (not that she would, because pink was a dreadful color). He didn’t have to live there. As a ghost he didn’t NEED shelter any more. He didn’t have hunger or thirst, didn’t suffer from cold or heat. He said he could travel the town so why not travel the world? If Marianne became an invulnerable, incorporeal being stuck to the mortal coil that’s what she would do. See what it was like in the middle of a volcano, or at the bottom of the ocean; the possibilities were endless. So why waste his time here, bothering her and worrying about a silly house?

Marianne got up to the kitchen and poured herself another cup of coffee. She supposed she would find out soon enough when he came back. Although if they were lucky he wouldn’t show up again until Sunny was nice and settled in.

~*~

“SUNNY!” Dawn cried, throwing herself exuberantly at her short friend, who nearly toppled over at the force of her affection.

“Whoah, hey! How’s it going?”

“Great! You’re gonna love it here, it’s haunted! It’s so cool!”

Marianne sighed. That wasn’t exactly how she had been planning on breaking it to Sunny.

“Uh…cool. Haunted huh?” Sunny didn’t look too enthused. Marianne dimly recalled Sunny being invited to scary movie night one time and how he ended up clutching Dawn’s legs pensively from his spot on the floor the entire time.

“Dawn’s just kidding.” Marianne laughed, then hissed at Dawn, “Stop it!”

They had discussed this before Sunny arrived, that it would be best to tell Sunny about Bog the same way Marianne had showed Dawn, but from the stubborn expression on Dawn’s face it looked like she didn't want to wait any longer. After all, Bog had been gone for two days prior to his last disappearance and Dawn was not a patient person.

Sunny still looked unsure, but grabbed his things anyway and followed them through the front door

“So how was the drive up?” Marianne asked.

“Great. Well, maybe not great. I think my butt’ll be flat for a few days from all the sitting. It’s a long drive.”

“Exactly the reason we’re here. Hopefully that will deter the relatives from visiting.”

“Speaking of, how’d your aunt take the news? Of – uh – me moving in?”

“Oh, she’s never going to know. She threw enough of a snit about us moving in the first place.”

Sunny rubbed the back of his neck pensively, “Yeah, that’s probably for the best.”

Although their aunt tried to cover it up with pretty words and excuses she was racist. She didn’t want Dawn to be friends with Sunny because he was black but she claimed it was because he was a “bad influence”. It was complete nonsense, of course. If anything Sunny’s easygoing nature complimented Dawn’s quite well.

They walked up the stairs and Sunny gave a start as he saw the portrait at the top.

“Yeah, that’s the guy I told you about. The one who owned the place before us.” Dawn said cheerfully, “He’s our ghost!”

Marianne groaned and tried to change the subject again, “So, here’s your room! Sorry it’s not very big, but…” she opened the door and ushered them in.

“No, it’s perfect! Anything’s better than sharing a room with two brothers, trust me.”

Marianne glared at Dawn, “We’ll just let you get settled,” She smiled at a bemused Sunny as she dragged Dawn out of the room by the elbow.

“What are you doing?” Marianne hissed, “You can’t just talk about things like that as if you were discussing the weather!”

“What’s the problem? I trust Sunny.” Dawn crossed her arms and tilted her head up stubbornly, “He won’t think we’re crazy.”

“Look, I think Sunny is great too, but come on, I thought I was crazy the first time Bog showed up.”

“Who or what is Sunny?” Bog said dryly from behind them. Dawn and Marianne whirled around to face him. Dawn looked like she had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar and Marianne suspected her expression wasn’t much better from the look on Bog’s face.

“Oh, you’re back.” Marianne said, trying to play it cool. Bog raised an eyebrow.

“It IS my house. Who is Sunny?” Bog said, unwilling to be deterred from his original question. Well, so much for buying some time to think.

The girls looked back and forth between them wordlessly, realizing they hadn’t actually figured out how to break it to Bog. Bog, getting fed up with the silence, poked his head into the guest room and back out again.

“Who the hell is he, and why is he in my guest bedroom?” Bog said flatly, “I thought we agreed – “

“ – We agreed no more girls.” Marianne cut in quickly, “Sunny is a boy.”

Bog fumed for a moment, then rushed into the guest bedroom. A low rumbling began emanate from the bedroom and shortly after Sunny threw open the door, his eyes wide. A peek inside the room revealed that everything in the room was shaking and the lights had gone out.

Marianne sighed and buried her face in her hands, “Not this again.”

**GET OUT _get out get OUT!_**

The voice was even louder than the last time and Marianne screamed in frustration and pain as she pressed her hands against her ears in a futile attempt to drown it out. Dawn was looking around nervously, but wasn’t full on freaking out since Marianne had told her all about Bog’s little act.

Sunny, however, did not have that advantage and was in a clear panic. He grabbed Dawns hand and started booking it towards the front door much faster than Marianne thought a man of his stature could go.

“Marianne come on!” Sunny called without stopping, “We need to get the hell outta here!”

Marianne, however, refused to budge. Distantly she heard the front door slam and she saw Sunny and Dawn were now outside, but the rumbling of the house only became more violent.

“Oh, can’t open a book on your own, huh? You can’t open a book but you can SHAKE AN ENTIRE FUCKING HOUSE?” Marianne yelled, and Bog took the bait, appearing before her breathing hard.

“Fury is a very good motivator lass!” He said, his accent thick with emotion, the house shaking with each punctuated word.

“The agreement said – “

“Oh, aye, the agreement? Yes we agreed that I would no longer try scaring you or Dawn, but I wasn’t trying to scare you two. I was trying to scare your little friend.” Bog threw his hand in the general direction of the front door, “That IS how we’re doing this now? Finding all the loopholes so our so-called agreement is essentially a moot point.” Bog sneered.

“We need Sunny. The rent is higher and – “

“And yet you didn't think to ask me for help. Not once did it cross your wee mind to ask if there was something I could do. No! Of course not! Because that would be rational!”

“What _could_ you do? You’re dead!” Marianne threw her hands in the air in frustration, “And who are you calling irrational? You’re the very picture of irrationality!”

Bog snorted, “Compared to you I’m Spock.”

Marianne rolled her eyes, “Why do you care so much about this place, anyway? Why not explore the world and leave us alone?!”

They were inches apart now, both of them so angry that they hadn’t even noticed.

“Oh, you’d like that wouldn’t you tough girl? For me to just roll over and give up what’s mine!”

“It’s not yours, you’re dead! Dead people can’t own ANYTHING!” The minute the words left her mouth she regretted it. Bog pulled back, struck, and the house stopped shaking. He seemed to visibly deflate, his heaving breaths a sign of the effort of his spent anger.

“Just because I can’t own something doesn’t make it any less mine.” He said.

“I didn’t break the agreement.” Marianne said feebly.

“It should have been implicit! You snuck behind my back to do this, don’t deny it.”

A pang of guilt worked it’s way into Marianne’s gut, “You never would have let me do it and I hated that tree…a-and we really do need Sunny…”

“That still doesn’t give you the right. You could have re-planted it! You could have asked me about this Sunny. You don’t know for sure that I would have said no. ” He pointed a finger at her, “You don’t know me well enough to make that assumption.”

Marianne sighed. She knew he was right.

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t know the tree was so important to you...I just thought you would get snippy about it because you don’t want any little thing to change…and…”

“It wasn’t important to me. It was a damn ugly tree anyway.” Bog muttered, scuffing his toe on the floor.

“If it wasn’t important, why…?!” Marianne huffed, exasperated.

“You can do whatever you want, and I can’t stop you. Not really.” Bog said quietly, “I hate it. This…powerlessness.”

They stood there awkwardly for a moment in the midst of his confession. If Bog had been a turtle he’d be hiding in his shell right now.

“Ok…uh…I won’t do something like that again. I promise.” Marianne said, fiddling with her hands nervously.

“Thanks.” Bog looked up and around, anywhere but at Marianne.

Marianne sighed and decided it was up to her to dispel the uneasiness between them, “So what about Sunny? I wasn’t kidding about the rent.”

Bog cracked his neck to the side, “I’ll have to beat some sense into that landlord. Give him the what-for.”

“No, Bog.” Marianne shook her head, “It’s not right.”

He gave her a sidelong look that suggested he may not give a damn what was right or wrong, but then shook his head.

“You’re right. My mother taught me better than to beat up inferiors.”

“I don’t think she would have used that word.” Marianne’s mouth quirked in a tiny smile.

“You don’t know her,” Bog scoffed, but then rolled his eyes, “But yes, that is not the word she used.”

After a moment of silence, Bog asked, “So you really haven’t been able to find a job?”

“Not really…there’s this column I could maybe write for, but I don’t know what to write. Fiction has never been my strong suite and my submission would have to be pretty good to get the job.”

“You could write about me.”

“…What? No. What? Really?”

“Why not? I’ve lived an interesting life. Interesting enough to pass off as fiction.” Bog said.

“Well, maybe…maybe that could work?”

“Well good, then we should do that.” Bog seemed unsure about the idea now that he had said it, but he wasn’t the type of person to go back on something he said.

“We’ll still need to keep Sunny as a roommate, even if I get the column. Even if Dawn gets a job.”

“Did that fool raise the rent that much?” Bog balked.

“No, but I don’t want Dawn to be using all her money on rent if she gets a job. I want her to be able to save up so if she wants to go to college or get her own place someday she has the option.”

Bog thought for a moment, then sighed, “I suppose I can tolerate him. With the stipulation that you will always consult me from now on before doing something.”

Marianne didn’t really want to agree to that, but knew it was fair considering her actions the past few day, “Okay, deal.”

“And we finish the agreement tonight! I don’t care if I keep you up until the next morning.”

“Fine, fine.”

“Good.” Bog said.

“Is Bog done being a grouch yet?!” Dawn’s voice floated up distantly from the front porch, “Because I’m hungry and I’m not strong enough to drag Sunny back inside on my own!”

“You have to admit, it was a little funny,” Bog said, as they made their way down the stairs, “The look on shorty’s face. He about pissed his pants.” Bog snickered.

“No! It was really mean of you.” But Marianne couldn’t hide the smile pulling at the edge of her mouth and they both burst out laughing at the same time thinking back on it.

“Come on, let’s go properly introduce you Sunny. And no more funny business!”

“No promises. If he turns out to be an annoying idiot I may just have to throw him into my dungeons.”

“You don’t have any dungeons.”

“That’s what you think.” Bog said with a grin.

Marianne rolled her eyes, “Come on you dork.” She made her way down the stairs, “and don’t you dare tell Sunny that I laughed at him or I will burn your comic books.”

“Playing dirty again, tough girl?” Bog shook his head and tsked.

“Nope. Just following my own rules.” Marianne stuck her tongue out at him and opened the front door to help Dawn drag Sunny back inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long guys - I've been working way too many hours lately :( But don't worry, I'm still always plugging away at this! As always your comments and kudos are definitely helpful to keep me going :).


	6. Chapter 6

“So you’re a ghost,” Sunny gestured at Bog who rolled his eyes but nodded, “who haunts this house.” Sunny looked at Dawn and Marianne incredulously, “and you guys are okay with this?”

“Okay may be the wrong word. Tolerant, maybe.” Marianne said dryly.

Bog glared at Marianne, “If anyone has to be tolerant around here it’s me.”

Sunny shook his head slowly, “This is a lot to take in.”

“Don’t worry! Boggy Woggy is a good ghost,” chirped Dawn. Bog’s head swiveled so fast towards Dawn in horror that Marianne would have laughed if she weren’t already cringing. She was wondering how her sister’s ‘fun’ little nicknames would come out and of course she had to pick the most inconvenient time to do so.

“Boggy…woggy?” He said slowly, looking as if each syllable left a horrible taste in his mouth, “No, no.” He got up and pointed at Dawn who just grinned at him, “No. It’s Bog or nothing.”

“Boggy woggy ghosty whosty.” Dawn said in a singsong voice and Bog flinched.

“Bog.”

“Boggy.”

“BOG!”

“Dawn, you’ll make him have another fit.” Marianne said, exasperated. “I don’t want to have to replace all the light bulbs again.”

Dawn rolled her eyes dramatically but kept her mouth shut.

“She’s saying it with her eyes!” Bog protested.

Marianne looked at Dawn, whose mouth was now firmly shut but her eyes were clearly shining with mischief.

“Dawnnnn.”

“Oh fine you two are such downers.” She pouted.

Sunny was surveying the conversation with wide eyes, looking as if he were still half convinced he had eaten something a bit off and was hallucinating this very moment. Dawn seemed to finally notice his  
discontent and sat down next to him, taking his hand in hers.

“It’s fine Sunny, really. You’re not crazy. You’re as sane as all of us.”

Sunny’s expression seemed to be stuck in-between one of delight that Dawn was holding his hand and a one that clearly stated Dawn’s words were not comforting at all being that none of them seemed especially sane right now

“Are you positive you need this sap? Look at him, trembling in his boots.” Bog snorted derisively. “What could he possibly have to offer?”

At Bog’s words Sunny came back to reality and looked at Bog straight on for the first time without flinching or averting his gaze.

“Hey! Hallucination or no; you don’t have any right to make assumptions about me. For all you know I could be…could be a secret ninja who knows a bunch of kung fu and could kick your ghost ass from here to next week.”

Bog raised his eyebrow, “Right. Because physical combat is the primary way one deals with a ghost. Have you been talking to Marianne?” Bog glanced at Marianne with a raised eyebrow and Marianne gave an exaggerated sigh.

“It was just ONE time, geez.”

“You know kung-fu?” Dawn asked.

“Well yeah, a little, uh…I took classes as a kid…” He trailed off, “But still! I have lots of talents. Useful talents!” Sunny crossed his arms, “Like…I can do parkour.”

“That’s not useful,” Bog said.

“It is so!” Sunny said at the same time Dawn said, “But it’s so cool!”

Sunny blushed, “You think it’s cool?”

“Well yeah! Running around, climbing sheer walls, jumping rooftops…what’s not cool about that?” Dawn said, lighting up, “Sunny’s really acrobatic.”

Bog looked like he may argue the point that acrobatics had very little practical application but he just sighed, “As long as he can hold a job and doesn’t get in my space he can stay.”

“YAY!” Dawn squealed and jumped up and down.

Bog pointed at her, “Don’t make me regret my decision.”

Dawn frowned and sat down on the couch, “Grouch.”

The next two hours were spent writing out the details of their agreement. It wasn’t easy making sure everything was accounted for, and Marianne was glad when it was over. Bog even insisted that everyone sign the document even though a contract with a dead person couldn't possibly be binding.

“Great! It’s done. I’m going to bed now.” Marianne announced, “You kids try not to get into trouble while I’m gone.”

“Aw, Marianne, you’re no fun!” Sunny whined.

“We wanted to set fire to the kitchen!” Pouted Dawn.

“No fires!” Marianne said, and left the living room. She’d better escape while she still could.

Bog followed her up the stairs and Marianne sighed. Of course it wouldn’t be as easy as escaping to her room, “What do you want?”

“We need to start writing.” Bog reminded her.

Marianne groaned, “Aw, come on. I just want to sleep.”

“We should write now.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m more creative at night.”

“You don’t even have sleep cycles any more, why would it matter when we do this?”

“I do sleep, kind of.” Bog said, “It’s not quite like it was when I was still alive, but I sleep.”

Marianne sat down on her bed, “Do you dream?” she asked, curiosity winning out over her fatigue.

Bog scratched the back of his head, “It’s funny you ask that because I didn’t used to. Once you – and Dawn – got here I did.” Bog shrugged, “It must have something to do with having living people in the house, I don’t know.”

“Weird.” Marianne shook her head, “I don't usually remember my dreams, but when I do they're always really strange. Almost like I'm seeing part of a story but not the whole thing."

"Mine are like that, too," Bog said shortly, and cleared his throat uncomfortably.

They both sat there awkwardly before Marianne finally spoke up.

“So, I guess I’ll get my laptop and we can see what we can get down?”

“Sure.”

Bog scuffed his toe on the ground as Marianne got her things together. It was clear that he was nervous about following through on his promise now that it was time to actually begin.

“You really don’t have to do this if you don’t want.” Marianne tried again, just in case. Bog shook his head.

“No, I want to get my story out there. No one really knew me when I was alive…at least some people will know me now that I’m dead.”

“Yeah…I guess I understand that.” Marianne opened her laptop and pulled up the word processor, “So, where should we begin?”

~*~

“Nu-uh. No way am I writing that.” Marianne crossed her arms stubbornly, “There’s no way that you, at such a young age, were already swearing like a – like a - ”

“Like a sailor?" Bog shrugged. "It's a perfectly good word. It means what it says, doesn’t it?”

“All too clearly.” Marianne said dryly, “I just can’t imagine a boy that age…saying such a thing.”

“Well I did. Now are you going to keep arguing with me, or are we going to get some writing done?”

“Fine, fine.” Marianne typed the word and moved on, “Then what happened?”

“Well I couldn’t let the insult pass, so I kissed the girl right on the spot.”

“So let me get this straight: you were ten years old and your first kiss was because you had to prove to some bully that you weren’t romantically…inept?”

“He teased me mercilessly. How I was ugly, how I would never get a girl, how I probably didn’t even know how to kiss one.”

“So you frenched the nearest girl?” Marianne asked dubiously, “How did that go for you?”

“Badly. I was young and foolish.” Bog muttered, “The girl gave me a good beating while the bully sat by laughing his head off.”

Marianne cringed, “Yikes.” After seeing how dejected Bog look she added, “You weren’t…foolish. Just inexperienced. And you're not ugly.”

Bog cleared his throat and turned, hiding the color rising in his cheeks, “In any case, I quit school after that and started helping my father with his fishing business. Mother didn’t approve, of course, but she couldn’t get me to go back after what had happened and I proved quite adept at teaching myself. Every time I came back to land she insisted on giving me tests and if I didn’t pass she wouldn’t let me go out on the next fishing run.” Bog laughed, “Of course, then she had to deal with me stuck in the house. One time I put a snake in her bed.”

“You must have been a terror of a child.” Marianne said, “I don’t envy your mother the job she had of raising you.”

“Bah, she didn’t do it alone. She did her part, sure, but I was raised as much by the sea as anything else.”

“And your father?”

“He was a good enough man. He taught me everything I know.”

“And you behaved for him, I take it?”

Bog gave her an ironic smile, “Misbehaving was never an option with him. In the beginning he warned me that I had better stay in line or he would throw me overboard. Then I pushed him too far one time and he made good on his promise.”

Marianne gasped, “You can’t be serious!”

Bog nodded, “As a heart attack. He was right to do it too. There’s no room for such things at sea. Everyone must be in tune with each other or someone could get killed.” Bog grimaced, “For God’s sake woman, wipe that look off your face. It was a clear day when he did it and I got back in the boat easily enough.”

“Your father really was..." Marianne searched for a proper adjective and came up blank, "..something else.”

“He was a good man. He loved me and my mother in his own way. He always supported us and was about the most loyal person you'd ever meet. Sure, he didn’t pepper us with gushing compliments or fancy declarations of love, but he never put anyone down, or let anyone down. You could always depend on him.”

“I guess I can see your point.” Marianne grinned, “After all, I’ve been tempted to throw you into the sea a few times myself. Maybe I would have done the same if I were in your father’s position, stuck with such a naughty child.”

“Pfft.” Bog said, “As if you were epitome of good behavior as a child.”

Marianne tilted her head upward, “In fact, I was. I’ll have you know I was on the honor roll in elementary school and all my teachers had nothing but good things to say about me.”

“You went to an elementary school that had an honor roll?” Bog scoffed, “Your family must have been a special kind of rich.”

“That has nothing to do with anything.” Marianne crossed her arms and reddened.

“I can see you now,” Bog continued, a smirk growing on his face as he baited her “Hair up in pigtails and a million freckles on your face, all smug and superior with your special ‘honor roll’ status.”

“I’ll have you know I had a pixie cut when I was little. And so what if I have freckles. Most people think they’re cute.”

“Well, they are, but - ” Bog cut off as he blushed, losing his stride, “ – but that’s not - ”

“We can hear your flirting all the way down here you know!” Dawn’s voice floated up, “Could you quiet down a bit, we’re trying to watch a movie!”

Marianne shut the laptop with a sigh. The biggest downside to the house was the poorly insulated walls and floors. Bog had disappeared thankfully, so he didn’t see that her face was red as a beet. Honestly, did Dawn have to keep pushing things? Marianne could easily make fun of her obliviousness that she and her best friend were clearly in love with each other, but she didn’t.

“Poor Sunny.” Marianne muttered. Dawn not wanting to talk about their father’s death was bad enough, but she couldn’t imagine what Sunny had to deal with. One of these days Dawn was going to have to face everything that she had been putting off and it was going to be painful. That's why Marianne preferred facing things head on, like ripping a band-aid off in one painful pull.

Marianne stretched and put away her laptop. At least Bog’s embarrassed advent meant she could get some sleep. They had gotten enough down for their submission; she could edit it tomorrow and then send it off.

~*~

“Oh no.” Marianne said as she looked over the newspaper’s website, “According to this the last day to submit the story was yesterday! I thought it was the 17th not the 7th! So much for that idea.”

“What? There’s no way a tough girl like you is going to give up just like that!”

“They’re no longer taking submissions. If I send it now it will probably just go straight into their virtual trash bin.”

“Then go in person. Make a personal connection.” Bog appeared to realize the irony of his statement as it came out of his mouth, and Marianne’s mouth quirked up in a smile as she imagined Bog trying to make a ‘personal connection’ with anyone.

“Personal connection isn’t really my thing, and I doubt that they’ll just let me see the editor in chief without an appointment. Or even let me make an appointment,” She said.

Bog shrugged, “It’s not like you’re submitting to the New York Times. This is a small local newspaper. I’ve peeked in there a time or two, it seemed fairly laid back.”

“Peeked in?”

Bog colored, “I told you. I get bored, so I wander the town sometimes. Nothing wrong with that.”

“Okay, but still. If submissions are closed why would they make an exception to see me? Even small local newspapers probably don’t appreciate people thinking they’re the special exception.”

“There are two editors. One of them, Elgery, fancies himself a seafaring man just because he has himself a little sailing boat. It’s cute really,” Bog snorted, “The man hardly has what it takes to be a true man of the sea, but still; it works to our advantage. All you’ll have to do is tell him your story is an adventure drama about a seaman you’ll have him hooked.”

“That’s all well and good but I have to get him to actually talk to me first. How do you propose I do that?”

“I saw him eat lunch at the local cafe a couple days back. Maybe we could hang around there and catch him at lunch?”

“Like creepy stalkers? I don’t think he’s going to react well to some random stranger bothering him on his lunch break about an unsolicited submission.”

“It’s worth a shot.” Bog said stubbornly, “I helped you write that thing so you owe me to at least try.”

“Okay,” Marianne threw her hands up in defeat. “We’ll go to the cafe, but if he doesn’t show up then that’s that.”

“Fine. But he WILL show up.”

Dawn wandered into the living room, “You guys are going into town too? You can ride with Sunny and me! We were going to walk the town and see the sights.”

Welp, it looked like this was happening for better or for worse. Bog looked at her triumphantly.

“See? It was meant to be.”

Marianne rolled her eyes, “Whatever, just let me set up the printer and we’ll go.”

~*~

Marianne had been sipping her coffee for fifteen minutes now and nothing had happened thus far besides the waitress passively aggressively suggesting that she should order some actual food or free up the table for a real customer. The place WAS packed after all, and from the delicious smells that wafted tantalizingly around her she could see why.

“When you said café I imagined coffee and sandwiches, not this,” Marianne gestured to the table next to her which had just been served baked parmesan encrusted fish with a side of honey glazed carrots.

Bog shrugged, “This place has been open since before I was born, family owned. They do everything from a home cooked meal to baked goods and coffee. Café is a loose term I suppose – it’s more of a one-stop shop.”

“Well it’s making me hungry and I don’t have enough money to justify eating out.” Marianne said grouchily, “Do you see him yet?”

“No.”

“Okay, five more minutes and I’m out. My stomach can’t take it.”

Bog glared at her silently but Marianne’s attention had been drawn to a man talking towards the entrance of the café. He had the sort of voice that carried, and it was getting closer to her.

“Oh no, you don’t have to put me on the wait list, my dear. I’m meeting my date here. Isn’t that right?” Marianne looked up to see a tall, impeccably dressed man with impossibly perfect golden blonde hair and sparkling white teeth that was currently directed at her by way of a toothful smile.

“Uh – yeah.” Marianne said reactively before she had the good sense to refuse. The man smiled and pulled the chair out, Bog getting up just in time to avoid being sat on. Bog snarled at the man, and began to size him up.

“Why hello there! Thanks for going with me on that – I am famished!”

“No – no problem.”

“I’m Roland, nice to meet you. And you are…?”

“Marianne.”

“What a lovely name.” Roland flashed her another blinding smile, “A lovely name for a lovely woman.”

“Who does this smarmy idiot think he is?” Bog said, “Let’s go, Marianne.”

“Yes – I’m sorry, but I have to go.” Marianne got up.

“So soon?”

“Well, I just wanted a coffee and I can’t afford a lunch so I better get up and free some space for other customers. After all it’s rude otherwise, and - ” Marianne cut herself off. She was rambling like an idiot. What was wrong with her? This guy was hardly her type, as charming as he appeared. Why was she getting all flustered?

“But of course I will be buying you lunch for saving my table for me!”

“Well, I - ”

“I insist! I’ve only got 45 minutes for lunch and then I’ve got a meeting at Elgery and Greech press. I’d love to fill that time pleasantly if possible, lord knows the meeting won’t be.”

Marianne sat back down, “You work with the local newspaper here?”

“Come on Marianne! You’re wasting your time with him!” Bog whined. He had started pacing back and forth, which was very distracting and she had to work to keep her eyes squarely on Roland. Which turned out to be equally distracting. The man was horribly attractive, in that sort of way that made you weak in the knees whether you liked it or not.

“I live out of town but I occasionally write stories for their paper. You know, most big time authors like myself don’t bother with the small people, but I find it to be very rewarding. I got my start at E and G press, so writing them a story now and then is my way of saying thanks.” Roland looked up at the waitress who had returned, “Two number five specials please, and quickly if you can darling.” Roland flashed her a dazzling grin and the waitress nearly swooned.

“Of course!” she said and hurried off, nearly crashing into a nearby waiter on the way.

“Is this guy for real?” Bog said, “Disgusting.”

“Oh – I didn’t…want…” Marianne trailed off as the waitress was no longer in earshot. Too late.

“So what brings you in town today? It’s positively criminal for a lovely lady such as yourself to dine alone.”

Marianne blushed, torn between embarrassment, pleasure at the compliment, and the growing desire to smack the man for his audacity.

“I was hoping to submit my story for E and G’s new column, actually, but I was late.” Marianne got up. Ordered food or no she didn’t dare stick around, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I really do have to get going.”

Marianne was halfway out the door when Roland caught up with her.

“Late? So you had an appointment then as well? Did you miss it?”

“I – I don’t, actually. I meant I’m too late to submit- the deadline was yesterday - but I thought if I could just maybe see him - ” Marianne stuttered. Their plan was sounding even more stupid now that she was trying to explain it, but Roland seemed utterly unfazed.

“Oh, well then you can take my appointment slot!” Roland said. “If you won’t let me buy you lunch at least let me do that. It’s the least I can do.”

“W-well…” Marianne was torn. On the one hand she didn’t want to be connected to this Roland in any way but on the other hand it could mean the difference between having or not having a job. She really didn’t have much of a choice. It would be insensible not to take the appointment.

“T-thank you?”

“Don’t mention it. Here, take my card.” Roland gave her a gold-inlaid business card, “Give me a call sometime. We can meet up the next time I’m in town, perhaps?” Roland sighed dramatically, “Alas I must be home by five so we cannot dine together tonight. Business to take care of at home, you understand.”

Marianne took the card, “Yeah.”

Roland winked at her and walked back into the café. Marianne stuffed the card in her pocket as if it had burned her.

“What was that?!”

Marianne jumped and turned around to see Bog, who was looking none too pleased to have been ignored the last five minutes, “Wasting time mooning over some shiny-haired pretty boy when we have business to conduct!”

“I wasn’t mooning!”

“You were! And did you see the way he was smirking at you? Like a cat at a fishmongers! You should have slapped him on the face.” Bog crossed his arms and glowered, “In another minute I would have tried it myself.”

Marianne couldn’t help but blush. If Dawn were here she would be going on and on about how Bog was being jealous. Could he possibly…?

“Are you…are you jealous?” Marianne asked slowly.

“No! Of course not! Of that sparkly poof?” Bog reddened, “That would be the day. And besides, jealousy is a problem of the flesh. I’m beyond all that by now.” Bog lifted his head defiantly, “I was just worried for your well-being is all. Swooning after an idiot like that.”

Marianne frowned, “I wasn’t swooning! And I’ll have you know that I’ve got us an appointment, no thanks to you.”

Bog huffed, “Well you – but he – there still was no reason to - ” Bog trailed off helplessly and threw his arms into the air, “Fine, whatever.”

Marianne rolled her eyes, “Okay grumpy pants. I’m going to go get myself an ice-cream to tide me over but if you’re just gonna be irritable the whole time I don’t want you around. I’ve got a half hour to  
kill before the meeting and I want to be properly ready. That means ice cream is required.”

“Oh ice cream for lunch. That’s really healthy.” Bog grouched, but followed her anyways.

~*~

“I just thought of something,” Marianne said as they approached the building. “How are we going to get past the receptionist? Surely if Roland goes there often she’s going to know what he looks like.”

“You let me take care of that,” Said Bog.

“Don’t do anything mean!”

Bog rolled his eyes, “Yes, mother.” He gave her one last sour look before drifting into the building.

When Marianne entered the receptionist desk was in disarray, paper scattered everywhere. The harried man looked up at Marianne as if she were an insult added to injury showing up when he was so indisposed.

“Can I help you?” The man said in a voice that implied the true meaning of his words were actually "Fuck off".

“Yes, I have an appointment at two o’clock with Mr. Elgery.” Marianne said as confidently as she could manage.

The receptionist went through the scattered papers on his desk uselessly, “I can’t seem to find the appointment sheet but I was positive that Roland was coming in today at two.”

Bog was behind her in an instant, “Say that Roland canceled last minute and a time slot opened for your appointment.”

Marianne jumped slightly but was able to recover quickly, “I almost wasn’t able to get an appointment today but a time slot opened up so he must have cancelled.”

The receptionist narrowed his eyes, “Ugh, Stacy all over again. I told her she needs to write these things down for me, but does she listen? No! They should just have me on for the whole day.” He muttered to himself.

“So can I, uhh, go inside then?” Marianne gestured to the door that had a ‘main office’ kind of feel to it.

“Go on ahead.” The receptionist said distractedly as he started to reorganize his desk.

Marianne slipped into the office and closed the door, Bog following close behind.

“Roland, just because you're a published author doesn't mean you can slaughter the English language like this. By God man, do you even use a spell checker? I mean - ” Elgery stopped as he looked up and saw Marianne standing there apprehensively, “Who are you? Where’s Roland?”

“Roland gave up his appointment so I could see you.” Marianne said before Bog even had a chance to come up with a plausible lie for her.

Elgery sighed, “Yes, that does sound like him. He’d do anything to help out a lady in need. I can’t say that I’m pleased but I suppose he’ll be in a sour mood if I just turn you away outright. You have five minutes.”

Marianne put her story down on the desk and quickly backed away, “I know the deadline was yesterday, but I would like you to consider my story for your column.”

Elgery’s expression was one of barely concealed impatience, “Dear, we’ve already selected - ”

“Tell him about the content of the story!” Bog prompted.

“It’s a coming of age story about a sailor!” Marianne blurted out, and for the first time Elgery seemed interested.

“Well – I suppose I could give it a quick read-through. Have a seat.”

Fifteen minutes later and Elgery was roaring with laughter.

“Hah! A boy his age with such spunk! Where do you get your ideas young lady?”

“Well I – I live in a house by the sea. I suppose it’s inspired me.”

“Pfft. You couldn’t make this stuff up if you tried,” said Bog, “No one could.”

“I have to admit, I wasn’t thrilled when you came in today, but now I’m glad we haven’t sent an acceptance e-mail to our previous choice because I want your story…if only to find out what happens next for myself!”

Marianne lit up, “Really?!”

“I’ll have Jake draw up the paperwork.”

~*~

Marianne’s boost in mood disappeared when she walked back outside to find the clear sunny sky had been replaced with clouds and pouring rain. She drew her arms around herself tightly, regretting her decision not to bring a jacket. She should have known better – it was fall. The difference between 68 degrees and 48 degrees could sometimes be only a matter of minutes.

“I told you you should have brought a coat.” Bog actually looked vaguely concerned for her.

Marianne shrugged, “I’ll be fine.” She sat down on a bench underneath the overhang of the publisher’s building and fished through her bag for her phone.

“You shouldn’t be out here,” Bog glanced back to the building, “Just wait inside, I’m sure they won’t mind.”

“I’m not pushing my luck by overstaying my welcome,” Marianne finally found her phone and turned it on. “Besides, Dawn and Sunny will be here soon…” she trailed off as she read Dawn’s most recent text.

**Dawn: Hey, sorry to be the bringer of bad news but there’s a problem with Sunny’s car. It’s an easy fix thankfully but it has to stay in the shop overnight. We had to get it towed and everything :(**

“…or maybe not.” Marianne sighed and rest her face in her hands, “Of all the awful luck.”

Bog leaned over her shoulder and read the text, “Well that’s not so bad, is it? They said it was an easy fix.”

“That’s easy for you to say, you can just poof yourself wherever you want to go I bet,” Marianne huffed. “It’s a bit more difficult for the rest of us. We’re going to have to call a cab, and they aren’t cheap around here. Plus who knows how long it will take for it to get here.”

Marianne’s phone dinged again and she glanced down.

**Dawn: Oh but Sunny says pizza his treat! Come meet us at Pop’s Pizza.**

“There you go. You can wait for the cab at that pizza place.”

Marianne shoved her phone into her pocket and glared at Bog, “Quit reading my texts, it’s rude.”

“What are you doing?” Bog asked as Marianne got up.

“I’m going to Pop’s Pizza.”

“You can’t walk in the rain.”

“Well I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

Bog fretted for a minute, “But you’re already shivering and you’re not even wet.”

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were worried for me.” Marianne said wryly.

“Well someone’s got to get my blasted house set right.” Bog said, turning away from her, “So of course I don’t want you to catch your death out there. It would be highly inconvenient,” He crossed his arms.

“Gee, thanks.”

Marianne had just stepped into the rain when a black car pulled up. The back passenger door swung open and Roland stepped out, holding a large black umbrella. He walked up to her and smiled, offering her space under the umbrella. Marianne obliged, careful to keep a certain amount of distance between them.

“I was on my way home when I noticed you standing out there all alone in the cold and I thought to myself, now that is a tragedy! Your beautiful color being stolen by the chill. Pale skin doesn’t become anyone.” Roland took off his jacket and offered it to Marianne. She shook her head but he still draped it around her shoulders anyway.

Bog groaned, “Ugh, this guy again. He can’t even compliment you right! You’re pale as the moon in any weather and it suits you perfectly well.” Marianne gaped at him, and Bog, suddenly realizing what had slipped out of his mouth turned away quickly.

Roland took her expression as a proper reaction to his compliment and gave her another one of his too-wide smiles. Marianne could see the cat reference that Bog was going at earlier now - Roland's smile had a slightly cheshire-esque quality to it that was equal parts fascinating and terrifying.

“I can have my driver drop you off at home, it would be no trouble. Well, I might be a little late but it’s for a good cause.”

Under any other circumstance she would have said no, but the cold was beginning to really seep in and if Roland drove her home she could get her car and pick up Dawn and Sunny, avoiding the cab ride all together.

Bog had recovered from his embarrassment and was now actively trying to shoo Roland away. He tried to push him but his arms went right through Roland, causing both to shiver violently.

“Brrr! Lets get inside, shall we?”

“Ugh! Disgusting!” Bog waved his hands about and looked at them as if they were now tainted, “I’ve got smarmy sod cooties all over now,” He turned to Marianne, “Don’t even think about getting in that car, that guy has 'serial killer' written all over him.”

Marianne rolled her eyes. Roland hardly looked the part of a serial killer, disturbingly perfect smile or no. Worst case scenario he would try to grope her in the car and Marianne would let Bog use his rage to throw Roland out into the street. She would be safe as long as Bog was with her, not to mention the her kickboxing skills. She had a mean left hook.

Marianne gave the driver her address to input into the GPS and the car slowly rolled out. There was a brief silence and Marianne had to keep from giggling because Bog was shoved in the middle seat between her and Roland, and he seemed determined to not touch Roland at any cost.

“Did I mention I'm a prolific author?” Roland said suddenly.

“What?”

“I’m the author of a popular book series. You may have heard of it – the Sunshine series.”

Oh, Marianne had heard about it all right. It was a poorly written mess about some misogynistic vampire guy and the vapid girl who loved him. It was inexplicably popular, and Dawn was a huge fan.

“The sunshine series? Are you kidding me? This guy just keeps getting worse and worse.” Bog grumbled and Marianne stifled a laugh.

“So you’re Roland Knightington?” Marianne asked and Roland preened at the recognition his name bore. She rolled her eyes – this guy really was full of himself, wasn’t he? If only he wasn’t so distressingly good-looking she could give him the proper scorn he deserved. Roland was gazing at her expectantly and Marianne searched for something to say that wasn’t ‘your work is complete drivel’.

“My sister is a big fan.” She offered.

“Really? Well, I’ll have to get her a signed copy some time, then.” Roland gave her another flashy smile and Marianne tried to smile back but she was afraid it was another one of those smiles her sister made fun of her for. Roland didn’t seem to notice, however, and had started to drone on about the writing process for his books.

“Does this man ever shut up?” Bog grumbled. “No one wants to hear about your blasted book series!” He yelled into Roland’s ear, and Roland actually flinched. Marianne hoped that Bog wasn’t considering revealing himself because that would probably end badly for everyone.

Thankfully, however, his yelling did seem to prompt a change in subject.

“So, how did you find your way into town? Did your boyfriend drive you? I've got to say he's a poor excuse for a man if he abandoned you like that.”

Marianne glanced at Bog who was looking a bit too satisfied with himself. Was that one of his powers? Subconscious suggestion? He noticed Marianne’s look, and as if reading her mind said, “Relax, it only works on those with a weak mind. You don’t have to worry about that.”

Roland was still waiting for a reply, and Marianne stuttered, “I-I don’t have a boyfriend. My sister’s friend drove us into town but his car broke.”

Roland frowned in sympathy but his eyes gleamed with triumph.

“Oooh so subtle. I can’t believe you fell for that transparent fish for information.” Bog crossed his arms and looked to the heavens.

The rest of the car ride was spent with Roland trying and mostly failing to charm Marianne. She had to admit that he had a way of speaking that could be very endearing and funny at times, and he was devastatingly handsome. However, Marianne wasn’t looking for a relationship and Roland just wasn’t her type, so he was wasting his time. Actually, she wasn’t sure what her type was any more, not after almost getting married to a man she thought she knew but really hadn’t at all.

“What a wonderful location! Right by the ocean…too bad the house is a bit of an eyesore. Are you in the middle of a renovation?”

“I suppose so, at least according to my landlord.”

“You’re the eyesore.” Muttered Bog, who had gone into full blown ‘toddler tantrum’ mode about fifteen minutes ago.

“Thank you for the ride.” Marianne said as she got out.

“My pleasure. Any time.” Roland winked at her as the driver pulled away, and despite herself she blushed. Bog grumbled and began to pace.

“What on Earth were you thinking? For all you knew the man could have been an axe murder and you got into a car with him?”

“He had someone driving him.”

“They could have been a murdering duo!”

Marianne rolled her eyes, “Right, that’s likely.”

“You just threw caution to the wind because he was charming,” Bog continued, “and pretty.” He spat.

“Maybe I didn’t want to walk a mile in the rain to go have a pizza I didn’t even want!” Marianne advanced on Bog, “Maybe I didn’t want to give up decent food for a week because I spent that money on cab fare!” She was inches from him now, “And maybe, just maybe, I trusted you to protect me so it didn’t matter, you jerk!” Marianne’s hands rose to his chest and she pushed him out of instinct, not realizing until after he stumbled back the implications of what she had just done. For a bare instant her vision blurred and she saw something else - Bog was something else. Something with wings? But then her vision cleared and he was back to normal, albeit looking paler than usual in shock.

Bog gaped at her, and then his chest.

Marianne looked at her hands as if they weren’t her own, “Did I – Did I just touch you?”

Bog gulped, “Aye.”

“But I thought – ghosts can’t touch people – can they?”

“I don’t know! I’m not a bloody expert, remember?”

“Hey! No need to get snippy.” Marianne cautiously approached him and he flinched back. Because Bog was a ghost and supposedly intangible she hadn’t stopped to think that maybe he didn’t like to be touched.

Marianne withdrew her hand, “Oh – I just wanted to see – if it’s okay, that is?”

After a moment Bog nodded, “I want to know, too.”

Marianne reached for his shoulder, and her hand went right through. Had it been a fluke, then?

“Maybe it only happens if I really want it? Like how you can shake the house but only when you’re really mad?”

“Maybe.” Bog still looked flustered.

“I’m sorry, um, was it uncomfortable for you? What did it feel like?”

“Like – like being alive again. Just for a second,”

Marianne wasn’t sure to say so they stood there in silence for a moment before it was broken by a tinny cell phone ring. Marianne fished the phone out of her pocket and brought it to her ear.

“Hey Dawn. Yeah, I made it alive. No, he wasn’t a murder. I’m about to come get you guys. You don’t have to save a slice for me I don’t really have an appetite right now. Okay, see you soon.”

When Marianne looked up, Bog was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long - I'm really unsure about this chapter because I feel like it's not up to my usual quality...but it's possible that's just in my head. Either way, my insecurity is to blame for the longer wait, but this chapter is twice as long as the usual chapters so I hope that makes up for it!
> 
> Also....Roland....ugh. I feel like I'm kind of writing him like Gilderoy Lockhart from Harry Potter, and I'm not sure how that happened but they seem to be very similar characters, apparently.
> 
> Please note: I edited this chapter while under the influence of way too much Benadryl. Allergy shots are the worst :( so sorry about any typos!
> 
> There are a few lines from the movie in this one - see if you can catch which ones!


	7. Chapter 7

“But Marianne,” whined Dawn, “it’s a BALL. A legitimate, ‘yes you get to wear a princess dress that has all the twirls and sparkles’ BALL! We have to go! I bet there will be tons hot guys there to dance with!” Dawn sighed happily and Marianne couldn’t help but notice Sunny’s slight grimace.

“I don’t do dresses, especially princess dresses. Especially princess dresses that sparkle,” Marianne crossed her arms, “and I don’t dance.”

“Let me put it this way then,” Dawn said, smiling a bit too shrewdly for Marianne’s comfort. “I’m going to go no matter what, but if you don’t come who’s to stop me from dancing with every guy there and being charmed by a serial killer who lures me away to my doom?”

“ARRRRGHHH! You. Drive. Me. CRAZY!” Marianne said, shaking her sister by the shoulders before placing a kiss on her forehead with a sigh. “Why do I have to love someone so infuriating?”

“You can’t help it, you’re my sister. You have no choice!” Dawn said with a smug smile. “The 20th annual autumn ball is tonight, so we’ll have to get our dresses today. Sorry it’s a bit short notice, but I didn’t even know about it until my coworkers brought it up!”

“How has the new job been?” Marianne asked, trying to change the subject.  
“Not much different from working back home; different branch same pizza. Oh! Except this branch has a fire oven to make specialty pizzas that – hey! Hey, that’s not going to work! We need to be thinking about the ball.”

“We can’t afford fancy dresses,” Marianne hedged.

“We can so. I’ve got my first check, and so do you. Besides, I found a nice discount boutique when me and Sunny were exploring the town. They take slightly damaged name brand clothing and sell them at a deep discount. Nothing a little sewing skills can’t fix!”

Marianne got up with a groan, “Fine, let’s just get this ordeal over with. But I'm not getting a dress...maybe just a nice shirt.”

“Yay!”

“Well, you two have fun shopping,” Sunny got up and stretched, “I’ve got to go to work. I managed to snag a day shift so I could ah – well, that is I joined the local band and - ”

Dawn squealed in delight, “You’re going to sing at the ball?!” She grabbed Sunny’s hands and jumped up and down in a circle with him, “This is going to be so much funnnn!”

“Yes. Fun,” Marianne said dryly. “Thanks for winding her up even more, Sunny.”

Sunny shrugged, blushing at Dawn’s exuberant attentions, “What can I say, I love to please.”

“Come on, sister mine! I’m gonna have so much fun dressing you up!”

“Joy.”

~*~

“No. Absolutely not. Not in a million years. No.”

“Aw come on! It’s so FLUFFY!” Dawn bounced the dress up and down, the frilly crinoline layers flouncing about.

“It’s orange. It’s covered in flowers. I want to puke just looking at it,” Marianne crossed her arms and leaned back on one leg, “and it’s very clearly a dress. I said I would wear a nice shirt and pants, not something that looks like a ballerina’s tutu and a glittery cocktail dress had an unholy baby.”

Dawn lowered the dress with a pout, “But it’s a ball. You need to wear something that’ll twirl when you dance.”

“I’m not going to dance. I’m only going so I can keep an eye on you, remember? Besides, what’s wrong with what I picked out?” Marianne turned and examined her reflection in the mirror. She was wearing deep purple leggings that featured a gold vine pattern, and a long dark pink and green layered top that looked slightly reminiscent of rose petals. Marianne actually loved the leggings, especially because she could re-use them for her work outs. The top was something of a compromise for Dawn’s sake.

“Its fine, I guess. I like the top, it’s nice to see some actual color on you. It’s just not very…ball-appropriate.”

“Dawn, know when you’re defeated. I’m not going to wear a dress. Just be happy I’m not wearing all black.”

Dawn sat down dejectedly, “You used to love wearing dresses with me…before…”

Marianne’s mouth tightened into a thin line and Dawn seemed to pick up on the cue for once and shook her head with a sigh.

“Alright, I’ll give up on one condition: that you promise to wear a dress the next time we go to a ball.”

“No way.”

Dawn lifted her jaw stubbornly and crossed her arms, “Promise. Promise or else I take every last bit of glitter I own and dump it in your dresser.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would.”

“You’re evil, you know that right?”

“Yep!”

There was a moment of tense silence before Marianne kicked the wall in frustrated defeat.

“Fine, fine I promise,” Marianne rolled her eyes. She would just have to make a point to never go to a ball again, which would be quite easy. “Anyway, what did you pick out for yourself?”  
Dawn lifted up a fluffy orange and yellow dress that was both hideous and yet perfectly suited towards her sister. Marianne shook her head with a sigh, “Well, you’ll certainly be the center of attention.”

Dawn grinned, “Exactly.”

~*~

Unfortunately, Marianne had been right. Dawn WAS the center of attention at the ball, and it was not the sort of attention that she wanted her 18 year old sister to be attracting. At first Marianne was giving herself headaches keeping all the men away, but Dawn threatened the glitter again so Marianne backed off. Besides, as long as she kept an eye on Dawn and made sure none of the men whisked her away to somewhere private she would be safe.

Sunny was on stage, looking absolutely forlorn while still somehow keeping his voice upbeat to the tone of the song he was singing. Most of the crowd didn’t seem to notice, and certainly not Dawn. Marianne snorted ruefully. Really, what did Sunny think would happen? That Dawn would just ignore all the handsome young men asking her to dance in lieu of staring up at Sunny dreamily while he played?

“Would you care to - ”

“NO.”

The man shrugged, and without a second glance immediately took up with Dawn who was now dancing from man to man across the dance floor.

There was a flash of green at the corner of Marianne’s eye, and with a groan of dismay she realized it was Roland. She ducked out of the way and hid behind a tree. Why did the weather have to be so unseasonably wonderful right now? Where was the October rain and chill? She could use a little of both right now to cancel the festivities.

She peeked around the tree and sighed in relief to find Roland far away from both her and Dawn, chatting up a group of blond women.

“Want me to crash the party?” Bog said from behind her. Marianne jumped.

“Hey, remember?” She said irritably.

“Sorry, sorry, I know. No Batman. It’s just hard to remember that people can’t hear me coming unless I make a conscious effort.”

Marianne turned around and Bog colored slightly.

“You – ah – you look - ”

“Different? Yeah, I know. Blame Dawn.”

“I was going to say you look nice. Those colors suit you.”

“R-Really?” Marianne stuttered, “Well, uh, I only let Dawn badger me into getting them because I can re-use the legings for my workouts,” She did a few punches and a kick. “It’s been too long since I’ve done a good round of kickboxing.”

“You do kickboxing, eh tough girl?”

“I could kick your butt from here to Scotland if you were solid,” Marianne did a kick punch combo to demonstrate.

“I don’t know about that. I’m fairly skilled myself,” Bog shifted from leg to leg, trying to muster some emotional energy before finally being able to pick up a fallen branch. He grinned and twirled it around, “I used to practice with a staff all the time, among other things.” He grinned before gesturing at her, “Come at me. Try and see if you can get past my defense.”

Marianne glanced back one more time to make sure they were out of sight and that Dawn was still safely on the dance floor before lunging towards Bog. She kept her palms open instead of closed, opting to use her palms in a false blow to avoid hurting her knuckles on the hard bark of the branch. Marianne was impressed at the level of control Bog was exerting, keeping form while also making sure the branch did not hit Marianne hard enough to really hurt her. Her palms did sting slightly, but she wasn't about to admit defeat. Bog was flicking each of her attacks away easily at first, but with visibly more effort as time passed.

“Not bad…for a girl,” Bog grinned when his verbal jab worked and Marianne charged for him. However, his intent to upset her enough to lose good form failed and she very nearly landed a blow.

“Wish I could say the same for you,” Marianne smirked as Bog backed up and began circling her.

“What are you saying, exactly,” Bog narrowed his eyes in challenge.

“I dunno…I guess I was expecting…more?” With a laugh she lunged forward again but Bog danced away from her and continued to circle, twirling the branch to and fro, under his arm, across his back, and into the other hand. Marianne was having trouble keeping track of his movements, which was probably exactly what Bog was going for.

“Do you really need to spin it around that much?”

“Aye, if it keeps you distracted,” Bog said with a grin, tapping her on the shoulder, “Another hit for me!”

Oh, that was so it. He was going down.

With a cry she lunged towards him again, feinted a punch to his face and when he predictably rose the stick to block she swung out under him and tripped his feet from underneath.For a split second Bog's stick looked less like a stick, and more like a staff made of winding wood, but it was gone before she could contemplate it further. As he toppled to the ground she realized she had done it again; she had touched him. But Bog hadn’t seemed to notice, instead overcome by laughter.

“You’re quite the spitfire. You would have given my father a run for his money.”

Marianne pushed her hair out of her eyes and sat down next to him, “Did your father teach you?”

“Aye, he knew much of the martial arts, picked up here and there from his travels. He would begin every day doing movements with me. It never failed to increase our focus and help us to connect with the ocean beneath our feet. Both of which are important when you are at sea, if you want to stay alive that is.”

“Think…think you can teach me? All I know are a bunch of basic kickboxing moves. I would love to learn more.”

Bog looked away, hiding his pleased smile, “Of course, it wouldn’t be a problem at all.”

Marianne peered back over to the dance floor, “Oh great, looks like Dawn has settled on one of the guys and they are getting way too close for comfort.”

“Then go out there and put a stop to it. I’m sure you could dispatch the man with ease.”

“I want to but…” Marianne trailed off as her eyes fell on Roland, who was mid-dance floor now with a large-chested redhead.

“You want to avoid him,” Bog finished for her, glaring in Roland’s general direction, “I understand the sentiment. Well then I suppose it’s up to me to save the day again.”

“What are you going to do?”

Bog smiled enigmatically at Marianne, “You’ll see.”

Marianne didn’t have to wait long to figure out what his plan was, because there was a sudden noise from the stage as the music abruptly changed from some slow song to something decidedly more heavy rock. Sunny’s bandmates were taking a break so his backup music was a pre-recorded karaoke track, making it the perfect opportunity for Bog to take over. Marianne laughed. It lined up so flawlessly she couldn’t help but wonder if he had been planning this all along. More than likely, he had.

Sunny tried to keep singing the original song, but when he opened his mouth his sweet, upbeat voice was drowned out by Bog’s deep masculine one. Marianne laughed at Sunny’s expression, which went from bewildered to slow understanding. He knew Bog was behind this, but instead of getting off the stage like Marianne thought he would he continued on, syncing his lip movements to Bog’s singing as best he could. After a moment Marianne could see why: the change in music had stopped the man dancing with Dawn, who was now headbanging in a way that made Marianne proud. Her little sister may be light and fluffy but the advantage of her love of music was that she appreciated every genre. It made for a very strange playlist to be sure – In Dawn’s music collection Metallica could be sitting right next to a Taylor Swift album. Marianne didn’t like the latter, but the former she could certainly approve of, so once in a while listening to music with Dawn was fun.

Everyone heard Bog’s voice, but it looked like no one besides Marianne could see Bog up on stage, rocking out on an invisible guitar. He looked up and winked at her and she blushed, giving him a thumbs up. Every time she thought she knew Bog she was surprised…and lately the surprises had all been pleasant.

Too soon the song was over and Sunny left the stage to take his break as his band mates returned. Roland had left during the change in music so Marianne felt confident that she could go out to the dance floor and try to drag Dawn home. As she approached she noticed Sunny was behind Dawn, struggling with some sort of bottle. What was he doing? He had better not be drinking because he wasn’t 21 yet, last she checked. When she got closer she realized it was too small to be something alcoholic; it looked more like a bottle of cologne.

Marianne was nearly to Dawn when Sunny finally got the bottle open in a violent surge, the contents spilling all over Dawns new dress.

Marianne stopped in horror as the smell hit her, intense and sickening, the other people on the dance floor making a wide berth around them as the scent spread.

“SUNNY! WHAT DID YOU DO?!!”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

“Ugh what is this?! It smells like something a 100 year old man wears when he wants to get lucky at the nursing home!” Dawn lamented, brushing at her dress uselessly, “It’s worse than that guy who wears too much Axe at work…”

Marianne plugged her nose and approached the two, “Where the hell did you get that stuff Sunny?”

“From the blond guy in the green suit! He said that…he said…” He trailed off and scuffed his foot on the ground.

Marianne sighed, “Dawn, go get cleaned up as best you can in the bathroom, then we're going home.”

“Okay,” Dawn said forlornly. Even she knew she couldn’t keep dancing the night away smelling like she did. She slunk off to the bathroom and Marianne turned back to Sunny.

“Alright, what did he tell you?”

“He said it was a fragrance line he was creating…it was like, a prototype. It’s supposed to get girls to fall madly in love with you with pheromones or something.”

Marianne rolled her eyes, “And you believed him?”

“He was pretty convincing. Even gave it to me for free,” Sunny said sheepishly.

“How helpful of him,” Marianne sighed and shook her head. “You’re paying for Dawn’s dress, because there’s no way that smell is ever coming out. Lucky for you we didn’t get it at a designer store or you would be indebted to Dawn for years.”

“O-Of course.”

“Look, fancy colognes are not the way to win a girl, okay? You just have to be yourself, but definitely not a version of yourself that smells like THAT,” Marianne took the nearly empty bottle from Sunny and chucked it into the nearest trash can.

Sunny looked down and rubbed his neck, embarrassed, “Yeah, I guess.”

Marianne’s face softened, “Just be patient, okay?” That was about as direct as she cared to get on the matter, but Sunny seemed to appreciate the sentiment.

“Yeah. Well, I’ll bring the car around. Just gotta tell the guys I’m leaving a bit early.”

As Sunny jogged off Bog returned, “What did I miss? And…what…is that horrifying smell?”

“Wait, you can smell it? Are you telling me the scent is so bad that it’s traveling into the spirit realm to taint that too?”

Bog barked out a laugh, “I wouldn’t doubt that, but I can smell strong scents sometimes.”

“Really? Like in Harry Potter when they would float through rotten food and almost taste it?”

“Something like that, I guess. It hadn’t really started until you lot moved in, but I suppose I didn’t have much to be able to smell in an empty house.”

“Weird.”

Bog shrugged, “Shall we go check on your sister?”

“Yeah, we better make sure she hasn’t succumbed to the smell. She could be passed out on the bathroom floor by now.”

~*~

“To or from, who cares? This isn’t a blasted literary epic,” Bog groused.

After they got home Dawn and Sunny went to their rooms to sulk while Bog and Marianne had decided to expound upon their good luck with the ball ending early by getting some writing done. Unfortunately, Bog’s good mood slowly dwindled the farther they got and he was being a real diva after two hours of writing.

“Proper grammar matters. Unless you want your story to sound like it was written by a five year old.”

“Fine, edit all you like but leave me out of it and just let me tell my story.”

Despite his mood the time had been very productive, so Marianne decided that was enough for today, and pushed the computer aside.

“What is your deal?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh yes you do!”

Bog was beginning to look flustered, and everything in the room had started to shudder ever so slightly.

“I’m fine.”

Marianne narrowed her eyes,“It’s kind of insulting that you think you can lie to me when you’re shaking my room because you’re clearly NOT fine.” Marianne stalked over to her dresser and grabbed the porcelain cat off before it had the chance to fall on the floor and shatter. If it broke Dawn might be tempted to buy her another two, and one was quite enough.

Bog began to pace, “It’s just…this next part of my life…I’d rather not tell it to you. Maybe I could just type it on my own - ”

“Even if you did I would still have to edit it because your grammar is atrocious. What is this about?”

“It’s ABOUT,” Bog snapped, “my one – and only – relationship! If you could even call it that.” He stopped pacing and ran his hands through his hair, agitated. “It – it’s not a good story…but it is a pivotal point in my life so it wouldn’t make sense to leave it out. It affected a lot of my actions later in life,” Bog was quiet now, his vigor replaced by vulnerability as he examined his hands.

Marianne sighed heavily and sat back down on the bed.

“Look, I know all about bad relationships,” she said softly. Bog sat down next to her and she looked away, “I was engaged to a man who I thought loved me, but the second he found out my father’s money was gone he left me.” Marianne laughed bitterly, “We had been dating for almost two years and he broke up with me in a text. I never saw him again, but if I did I would punch him into the next century,” Marianne quirked a smile and Bog snorted.

“You and me both,” He said.

They fell silent, and after a while Marianne almost thought that Bog had disappeared again until he started talking; quietly at first but slowly gaining strength.

“She worked at a bakery in one of the ports my father and I would frequent. I would see her every time we came in, first thing,” Bog sighed and looked up, lost in memory. “She was the most beautiful person I had ever met; she was kind, funny, and talented – she made the best pastries I had ever tasted. I thought we had something – at the very least a friendship - so one day I worked up the courage to ask her out. She said she couldn’t, that she was getting together with a friend later,” Bog’s brow furrowed, “I thought I still had a chance with her so I came back later that day to try again. The bakery was crowded so she hadn’t seen me come in but I could hear her talking to her coworker about me. She was saying how she hadn’t wanted to hurt my feelings but I was so…hideous…that the very thought of kissing me repelled her.”

Bog grimaced and looked down, his hands clasped tightly in his lap, “Her coworker laughed and told her there was no reason to be nice about it, because ‘he’s better off finding out sooner rather than later that he’s a joke to all the women in town: the tall awkward man with the overlarge nose and ears and always smelling of fish. He’ll never find a woman who would willingly take THAT to bed,’ she said.”

Marianne sat there in shocked silence for a moment before she said, gently, “You’re not hideous.”

Bog looked like he was going to say something sarcastic in response, but when he turned to meet her eyes and saw that they were devoid of pity and instead were nothing but sincere he stuttered, “O – oh – well, it doesn’t matter anyway what I look like now, right? Since I’m dead.”

“No, it does matter. You might be dead but there’s no reason for you to go around thinking something that isn’t true just because some stupid floozies couldn’t see you for who you really are,” Marianne said fiercely. Without thinking she put a comforting hand on Bog’s shoulder, where it stayed. They both froze at the contact, unsure of what to do next.

“I – uhm – why don’t we go for a walk outside to get some fresh air?” Marianne said, “It’s unseasonably warm right now, we should enjoy it while we can.”

Bog was looking at her hand on his shoulder as if might explode at any moment. He gulped, “I can show you a hidden path that leads down to the ocean.”

Marianne took her hand away, suddenly bashful, “That sounds good. Let’s go.”

Marianne snuck down the stairs as quietly as possible, though it wasn’t necessary since Dawn and Sunny were asleep on the couch, the sound of their still playing movie undoubtedly covering the noise of the squeaky stairs. She was glad to see they had both still made the best of the night. Even though she knew it hadn't turned out the way either of them had wanted, she had a feeling from the way Dawn's head was resting on Sunny's shoulder that it had turned out the way it should have.

When Marianne stepped outside the air was damp but still warm enough that she only needed a light jacket, though it was darker than she imagined it would be.

“Maybe we shouldn’t - ,”Marianne started.

“Why? The moonlight is perfect right now.” The way Bog was gazing at her made her turn away and blush, her mind flitting back to his comment about her being as pale as the moon and how well it suited her.

“B-but it’s so dark…” She said as she hesitantly followed Bog around to the back of the house and towards the side where she could now see a tiny trail through the thick overgrowth.

“Not at all, the moon is full,” Bog turned to her with a smile, “you haven’t seen dark until you’ve been on the ocean at new moon…now THAT is dark.”

“I guess I’m just used to being in the city where there are street lights everywhere,” Marianne said, unsure as Bog floated through some brambles. She hesitated and Bog came back towards her, his hand outstretched. She took it hesitantly, and was surprised when her hand made contact with his. It seemed to be getting easier and easier to touch him. Was it because they were both so emotional right now? At least she was…was Bog?

Her over-analytical thoughts ceased as he carefully led her through the prickly branches, and all she could think of was how real his hand felt. It wasn’t warm but it was solid, rough and calloused. Her finger absentmindedly played along the outside ridge of his hand until she was pulled out of her reverie when they cleared the brambles. Bog helped her up from her crouched position and she nearly crashed into him. He cleared his throat nervously as she steadied herself by placing a hand on his chest.

“Look,” He said simply, and pointed up. Through the tangle of trees above them the sky was inky black but dotted with more stars than Marianne had ever known the sky could hold. Her mouth fell open as she took in the sight and Bog chuckled.

“You can’t see that in the city, can ye? Ah, if only I could show you the stars when you’re out at sea – when you’re so far away from light pollution that you could see every pinprick of light to the very beginning of the universe.”

“Wow,” Marianne said quietly.

“Come on, it’s even better once we clear the trees and make it to the beach.”

They made their way slowly down the hill, Bog stopping occasionally to make sure Marianne was still behind him. When she finally took the last step to the beach she couldn’t help but slip her shoes off and sink her feet into the cool, damp sand. She dug her toes in for a bit, reveling in the rough texture before she made her way over to Bog who was surveying the ocean with his hands on his hips.

“Now, look.”

The ocean was glassy calm, and it perfectly reflected the moon and explosion of stars across the night. Marianne gasped softly as she took it in, her eyes darting to and fro trying to take it all in at once.

“Have you ever even seen the milky way?” Bog laughed gently as he took in Marianne’s flummoxed expression.

“No,” She breathed.

“Well that much is plain.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“Surely you took some family trips?”

“Yes, but my father loved big cities so most of our family trips were to heavily populated areas. We went camping when mom was still around but we were never far away enough from civilization to see the stars like this…”

“Well from now on you can have this view whenever you want,” Bog said, “It’s just a short walk away.”

Marianne turned towards him, “Why, that almost sounds like you’re okay with me living in your cottage for the rest of my life,” She teased.

“And what if I am?” Bog said, his voice softer and slightly husky.

Marianne felt a falling sensation as Bog stepped closer to her, and she struggled to steady herself, “T-that’s good, because I was going to stay anyway.”

“Good.”

His voice had an honest to goodness rumble to it when he spoke like that, his accent thicker and voice low and warm.

He slipped his arm around her and she gasped softly as their bodies came fully into contact. This time, he almost felt warm, his face appearing almost pink. He was going to kiss her. She was going to kiss him. And in that frozen moment of anticipation, despite everything she knew, how this couldn’t possibly work, how this shouldn’t even BE possible, it felt more right to her than anything ever had in her entire life. She could almost swear she felt the flutter of a heartbeat where her fingertips rest on his breastbone, and was about to say something about it when her vision suddenly blurred and she stumbled back, breaking free of Bog’s grasp.

“Marianne? What’s wrong?”

“I- I don’t know,” Marianne said, clutching at her head. Bog tried to help steady her but his hand swished uselessly through her torso and when she shivered violently he backed away. Something caught the corner of her eye, something dark with too many legs. She looked to the side, but nothing was there. Slowly her vision returned to normal and the pressure inside her head began to subside. She sighed in relief and ran her hands through her hair with a groan.

“What happened? Are you okay?” Bog was hovering a few feet away from her, looking as if he wanted to rush to her but holding himself back.

“I got a terrible headache and everything got all blurry for a second,” Marianne shook her head again, “I’m feeling fine now, though.” She sat down on the sand and Bog began to pace.

“It was my fault. I shouldn’t have,” Bog hesitated, “touched you. It’s not good for you, it did something to you.”

“You can’t know that,” Marianne sighed, dragging her hands through the sand and then watching as the grains fell through her fingers.

Bog stalked up to her and knelt down, cupping her cheek in his palm. Instinctively Marianne leaned into his hand but then grimaced as a spike of pain drove itself into her skull and  Bog jumped away from her as if she had burned him.

_He's mine, not yours!_

Marianne looked around, confused, but the source of the whispered voice, like the shadow, was nowhere to be seen. Marianne drew her knees into her chest and began to rock back and forth. The dreams were back and now the hallucinations were getting worse. She'd never had them during the day before, but now they were popping up with semi-irregularity and she wasn't sure what to make of it.

Bog misinterpreted her unease and began to pace. “You see? I should have known better. I’m dead, my life is already done. I shouldn’t be doing,” He gesticulated helplessly at Marianne, then the ocean, “This. I shouldn’t have…feelings. You shouldn’t be wasting your time with me.”

Marianne stood up, her concerns overshadowed with indinance. “Excuse me but you’re not the only person involved here. You can’t just unilaterally make decisions about things and expect everyone to follow along.”

“And what, praytell, do you expect to happen here? I’m dead, Marianne. My life is over. You need to live your life with people who can live it WITH you.”

Marianne hugged herself and refused to meet his gaze, instead looking out at the ocean. She was never good with words and she wasn’t even sure what she was feeling, never mind how to vocalize it.

“I’m going to go away for a while,” Bog said quietly after a few minutes passed. “You have enough of my story written down at this point to hold you for – for a couple months. I’ll be back – to finish the story – but please, Marianne…live your life while I’m away. Meet new people…new…men. I wouldn’t have been worthy of you alive, and certainly not dead.”

Marianne was silent, everything she wanted to say blocked up in a lump in her throat.

“Goodbye, Marianne.”

“I don’t want you to go,” Marianne finally choked out, but when she looked up Bog was already gone.

~*~

“Marianne?”

Marianne didn’t look up as her sister approached and sat down next to her.

“Bog said you would be down here.”

Marianne looked up, “Is he back at the house?”

“No, he’s gone. What’s going on, Marianne?”

“It…uh…well you know how I told you I touched Bog yesterday?”

Dawn perked up but then her face fell when she saw Marianne’s expression, “Yeah?”

“Well it turns out…if we touch for too long then it hurts me. I get headachy and dizzy…” Marianne trailed off.

“You and Boggy were touching for a long time?” Dawn smiled eagerly. Marianne glared at her.

“Right, sorry. Boggy – Bog…he, um, had a talk with me before he left. Said I should really try to start confronting my feelings, whatever that means,” Dawn laughed nervously, “He, uh, said I should start with talking to you.”

Marianne shook her head with a sigh. That man had a well-meaning streak a mile wide, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be – I know,” Dawn sighed, “I know he’s right. I just don’t want to think about bad stuff, you know? Like, um, dad.”

“I know,” Marianne looked back out at the ocean. Now that they were finally having this talk Marianne didn’t feel ready for it.

“It’s just, if I let myself think about it for too long I start to get panicky and sick and I want to be strong for you. You were so depressed for so long, I don’t want – “

“Dawn, you don’t have to be strong for me,” Marianne turned towards Dawn, “We’re sisters, we’re supposed to be there for each other. That means we’re allowed to break down when we need to around each other.”

Dawn’s eyes started to water, “I know, but it’s just hard? I want to be cheerful, I want to be back to being me, but I can’t help but think about things.”

“Like what?”

Dawn looked down and scuffed her foot through the sand, “Like, if ghosts exist…which they do because, well, Boggy…if ghosts exist then why didn’t dad come back? Why didn’t mom? Didn’t they want to be with us?”

Marianne wished she could cry with Dawn, but despite the fact that all of her roiling emotions begged for release the tears refused to fall.

“I thought about that too. I don’t know. It doesn’t seem fair,” Marianne rest her head on her knees as Dawn wiped at her face, “I’m sorry Dawn, I understand why you don’t want to talk about this stuff.”

“No, it’s okay. I need to do it. For you…and for me.”

“That must have been some talk you had with Bog.”

“It was. He’s really good at it,” Dawn laughed, “You should have seen Sunny’s face when Bog asked to talk to me alone.”

“I can imagine,” Marianne said dryly.

“Is he really going to gone for a while?” Dawn said after a moment.

“Yeah.”

“Don’t worry, he’ll be back.”

“I know, but...that's not the only thing I'm worried about. The dreams have come back."

Dawn's face fell, "Oh no. Just...just dreams this time? Or are there hallucinations too?" Back when Marianne first started having problems when she was younger she would have hallucinations of dark figures coming for her, or spiders advancing on her from the walls. Dawn had shared the room with Marianne and would often wake to her screams, having to bring her down from the ensuing panic attack.

"Just dreams," Marianne said, not wanting to worry Dawn, "but they're even more vivid than they used to be. Sometimes I'll wake up still smelling that scent."

"Well maybe you should start taking that sleeping pill again. Didn't that stop them before?"

"Yeah, maybe," Marianne hedged, not too keen on the idea of seeing a doctor to get the pills. Maybe she had some old ones sitting around from a couple years back.

“Hey Marianne?”

“Yeah?”

“You never told me all the details on that guy who drove you home. Come on, spill!”

Marianne punched her sister jokingly on the shoulder, “There’s the Dawn I know and love. I knew she’d be back,” Marianne stood up and stretched. “Come on, we should get back to the house.”

“Okay, but you still haven’t told me.”

“About what?” Marianne said as she started up the path.

“Oh come onnnn!!”

~*~

“OMYGOSH I can’t believe you met him what was he like I can’t believe you waited so long to TELL ME you have to tell me everythiiinnnnggg!” Squealed Dawn.

Marianne was beginning to regret telling Dawn that the man who had gotten her the appointment and brought her home was none other than the author of the Sunshine series, but seeing as Roland was now perched above their beach, occasionally looking down to peer at her and Dawn walk Marianne felt she had little choice. The unseasonably warm air from last night had continued into the day, a last indian summer before autumn fully gave itself over to winter. So Marianne thought it might be nice to take a walk outside, get some fresh air, and try to take her mind off things. If she had known what awaited her she would have stayed inside with a good book. Their property bordered a small park, so technically he wasn’t trespassing and she couldn’t ask him to leave, unfortunately.

“It doesn’t matter, Dawn.”

“Come onnnn.”

“He was charming, but a bit smarmy. Yes he was handsome. No, I’m not going to see him again.” Marianne said, rubbing her temples.

Dawn was looking at Marianne as if she had just drop kicked a puppy.

“But…he’s right up there! Obviously he came back to see you!”

“He’s got his tablet, he’s probably just busy writing.”

Dawn rolled her eyes, “Even YOU can’t be that dense. If you won’t go talk to him, then I will!”

Before Marianne could stop her Dawn was running up the sandy cliff to where Roland was sitting. Marianne rubbed her temples with a sigh. The last thing she needed right now was to be forced into an unwanted social interaction with a man who was clearly out to get into her pants.

Marianne groaned as she saw the two heading towards her. Dawn was clutching a book, running with a bounce in her step, making it to Marianne several seconds before Roland did.

“He gave me a signed copy of his latest book! The one that isn’t due to be out until next month!” Dawn squealed, “I’m gonna go read! Don’t you two do anything I wouldn’t,” Dawn winked and skipped off.

Marianne shook her head derisively. One second Dawn was insisting that Marianne and Bog were star crossed lovers and the next she was trying to set her up with her favorite author. If there was one thing Dawn was consistent with it was her inconsistency.

“Why hello there! Beautiful morning, isn’t it?” There was that sparkly smile again. Marianne cursed inwardly. It was stupid and probably completely fake and she shouldn’t think it was attractive.

“Yes.”

Roland peered out into the ocean in a way that suggested he was actually trying to look rugged and manly. The problem was that even though Marianne knew what he was doing he still pulled it off quite well.

“I must say there’s nowhere better than the ocean to get inspiration. That’s why I just had to come back here.”

Marianne very nearly laughed at the transparent lie, but managed to keep it in, “Oh?”

“I thought I would be inspired by the ocean, but instead I was inspired by you,” Roland turned his IPad on and showed her what was on the screen.

“That’s – That’s me. Have you been here all day?” Marianne asked, caught between being impressed by how good the sketch was and feeling a little creepy that he was watching her without knowing it.  
Had he been up there all that time before Dawn noticed him? Marianne had finished kickboxing about an hour ago.

“Writers like myself have what we call a “creative” time of the day,” Roland smirked, “Most are night owls but I never liked the dark, too gloomy. Sunrise is a far better time to get my creative juices flowing. What do you think?”

“It’s – uh – It’s good,” Marianne was beginning to freeze up, her desire to get away warring with the good manners that her father ingrained into her since she was a little girl. What she wanted to do was tell him to go away and not to come back. If only Bog was here.

“I know, right? I am a writer by trade but I do love to get artistic from time to time. My next book features a warrior princess and you were the perfect inspiration,” Roland shrugged, “Normally I prefer to keep my fighting characters male, but strong female leads are whats selling right now. I was hoping you could give me some insight.”

That was both incredibly misogynistic and complimentary at the same time. Marianne’s head was beginning to ache from all the conflicting thoughts and feelings flitting through her mind right now. She still wanted to get away but she couldn’t help but notice that the top three buttons of his white shirt were undone, the wind lifting up his shirt and revealing chiseled features beneath. Not to mention the tight jeans that were hugging a truly magnificent behind. And his hair, damn. It was straight out of a romance novel perfect. Marianne gulped, angry at her body for betraying her like this. This was exactly how she got involved with Gerard, and look how that turned out.

“Well, uh, women fight for the same reasons as men, really.”

“Oh?”

“Well yeah, we’re not that different you know.”

Roland was much too close for comfort now, and Marianne stepped back. Time to wrap things up.

“I have to get going. I promised my sister I would cook her lunch,” She lied.

“Oh, well I – “

Before he could try to invite himself in or try to offer to bring her out for lunch she jogged away from him towards her house, “Bye!”

Dawn was right there at the door when Marianne walked in, and she jumped back in surprise.

“How was it? Did you kiss? Did he ask you out on a date?” Dawn said, looking entirely too gleeful. Marianne stalked up the stairs.

“I thought you were going to read.”

“I couldn’t read knowing what was happening!”

“What is your deal, anyway? I thought you wanted me to be with Bog.”

“Well, yeah, but you can’t. Might as well keep your options open, play the field a bit!”

“I’m not going to date Roland.”

“Why not?”

Marianne shut the door in her sisters face and flopped herself down on her bed.

Because being attracted to someone wasn’t love. Because Roland wasn’t the right guy for her by far. Because her life was too messed up right now to add romance to the mix.

Because she was in love with Bog.

"We've gotten ourselves into an awful fix, haven't we Bog?" Marianne said softly into her pillow, the tears that she hadn't been able to release last night finally falling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: this fic is updated up to this chapter. I've been going through and adding things and there so hopefully it makes more sense!
> 
> Sorry this took so long guys, but I hope it was worth the wait! I thought this would be good belated Valentines present for y'all!
> 
> I'm also sorry for the angst, but it is, alas, necessary for this part of the story. I know, I know, I had all that fluff and ended it sad, BUT I will cheer you up with one tidbit of information: Dawn will make good on her promise to make Marianne wear a dress at another ball by the end of the story :D.
> 
> I'm pretty psyched about the last line of this chapter too, because "We're in an awful fix" is a something Mrs. Muir says in the original movie, and it's also a line that ties into Strange Magic - the line that ties the two movies together! I would have named this fanfiction An Awful Fix if the name were not already taken by a fic ten times better than mine ;)


	8. Chapter 8

Bog sat at the edge of a cliff, gazing down on the emerald landscape of his homeland. A thick fog had rolled in, settling into the valleys and hugging the hills, making it appear as if he were sitting on top of the world. It was as beautiful as always, but still he missed the feel of the damp cool air on his skin, the smell of rain kissed earth and grass.

When he was with Marianne on the beach he could smell the salty breeze coming off the ocean, but this far away from her he seemed to have lost all ability. He couldn’t even pick up a small stone to toss over the edge of the cliff where he stood.

“What happened?

His mother was struggling up the hill to his spot at the top, the determined look on her face telling Bog there would be no escape from her probing personal questions. Bog sighed and turned towards her, resigned to his fate. He had made a point to become invisible but it never seemed to work on his mother. It was as if she could sense him whether he wanted her to or not. The first time he had visited her after his death he intended on staying unseen, not wanting to upset her with the realization that her son was stuck in the land of the living as a formless ghost. However, she had known he was there from the start and had practically bullied him into showing himself.

“I don’t want to talk about it, mother,” Bog said wearily.

“You’ve met her, haven’t you? Your one true love,” Griselda clasped her hands together and sighed happily. “And about damn time too!”

“Mother,” Bog said, his tone warning.

“The faery told me you’d meet her as long as you stayed in that house! That’s why I never let the house sell. I had my doubts from time to time but deep down I knew it was true!”

Griselda had always been superstitious; she had warned him in his youth to avoid rings of mushrooms and such. Bog had always played along before to keep the peace, but ever since she started making things up to try and jump start his love life Bog was losing patience with it.

“There’s no such things as true love, and there is no faery,” Bog ground out. “It was just some fever dream you had. Fae don’t exist.”

Griselda crossed her arms and frowned, “That’s funny coming from you. You didn’t think ghosts existed either and look how right you were about that.”

Bog rolled his eyes, “That’s different.”

“Oh, it’s different? How exactly? Would you care to explain it to me since you’re such an expert?”

“It just is!”

Griselda walked up to him and sat down on the side of the cliff, dangling her legs over the edge. “You just don’t want to believe it because you don’t think you deserve love,” she said, observing Bog’s tight lipped silence shrewdly, “Tell me I’m wrong.”

“I hurt her just by touching her,” He said after a moment. “I’m not good for her. She needs to live her life, not spend it with someone who’s already had his chance.”

“You never had the chance to live! You died before your time.”

“Well there isn’t anything I can do about that, unless you happen to know the cure for death,” Bog said bitterly.

“That’s just it! I bet you anything that true loves kiss is the cure! That’s why the faery told me it was important you wait at the house, no matter what happened to you. I bet she knew you would die first and - ”

“You don’t understand, I could have killed her!” Bog exploded. “We were about to kiss and she went so pale. She tried to hide it but she was in agony,” Bog started to pace. “Even if ‘true loves kiss’ were the so called cure I don’t want it if it is at the expense of her life.”

“You're just assuming it would kill her. You can't know that it would."

“I'm not going to take that chance either way.”

“But the faery…”

“I can’t believe I’m even having this conversation with you,” Bog sighed.

A sudden breeze blew up the side of the cliff and Griselda drew her shawl closer around her with a shiver. Bog could hear it but not feel it, and for a moment he envied his mother the ability to feel the chill. He missed the bracing feel of it on his skin, the fire of it making every inch of him alive with invigorating sensation.

“You should go inside, you’ll catch your death out here.”

“Bah, our family has hot blood, I’ll be fine,” She said, but she got up anyway and started heading back to her cottage. Just as Bog was beginning to think he was free from her nagging, she turned around.

“You’ll go back, won’t you?”

“Eventually, yes. I made a promise.”

Griselda narrowed her eyes, “But you don’t plan on staying.”

“No.”

“I know you think I’m crazy, but I know what I saw. She warned me to be on guard for the dark one’s underling.”

Bog suppressed a laugh. That sounded like something straight out of some silly fantasy romance novel. Still, even if he thought his mother’s superstitions were inane, he wasn’t going to belittle her for it.

“Fine, mother.”

“I know that tone. You’re just being agreeable to get me to leave.”

“What do you want?”

“I WANT,” Griselda heaved a long, tired sigh, “you to believe me. But since I can see that isn’t going to happen, I’ll just say this: please don’t give up. You say you want her to live her life, but what if she doesn’t want to live it without you? Don’t take that choice away from her.”

Bog was silent as Griselda walked away.

~*~

“Come on, it’ll be good for you to get out of the house,” Dawn said gently. “You should go.”

“I’m fine.”

“It’s been a month since Bog left and you’ve done nothing but lay about the house.”

“Getting out of the house by going on a date I don’t want to go on will not do me any good."

“Marianne, I’m worried about you! It’s been - ”

Dawn’s next words blurred together as Marianne tuned her out. The truth was Bog leaving had triggered another bout of apathy. His sudden absence couldn’t help but remind her of her father’s absence, and it went downhill from there. First came the anxiety, then the depression, and finally two weeks ago the numbness had set in again. She thought she had been keeping it close to her chest but it was clear from the way that Dawn was looking at her that she wasn’t quite as opaque as she had hoped.

“You’re not listening,” Dawn regarded her with tight-lipped disapproval, an expression that looked comically ill-placed on her normally cheerful face.

“I – I am,” Marianne fumbled.

Dawn crossed her arms, “Fine, then what was I saying?” After a few moments of silence, Dawn sighed, “Yeah, I thought so.”

Marianne groaned and threw the blanket over her head, burrowing deeper into her bed. The problem with her numb spells was that it was so much harder to deal with people, especially those who were close to her. Trying to mimic an approximation of real emotion was exhausting, and apparently a work in futility if they could see right through her. She wanted Dawn and Sunny to just go away and let her alone so she could stay in her room in silence and pretend she didn’t exist. Life would be so much easier that way. But, even though she didn’t feel it now, she cared about them and in some distant part of her brain that still mattered enough for her to make an effort. She peeked out of the blanket to see that, regrettably, Dawn was still there and looking at her expectantly. Marianne sighed and crawled out of her blanket cave.

“Dawn, Roland just isn’t my type.”

“That’s not the point, Marianne. I’m not asking you to marry him, I’m asking you to go out on a date. Maybe you don’t think he’s relationship material, but it wouldn’t kill you to go out and have a little  
fun as his expense. The evening he had all planned out for you sounded so romantic.”

“So you’re advocating I waste his money and my time? Nothing will come of it, and I guarantee you that’s what he wants.”

Dawn shrugged, “Something might come of it, or not. Either way, I think it would do you some good.”

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“No. It’s this or I drag you to a therapist.”

Marianne grumbled and smothered her face in the pillow. She was already feeling tired thinking about the amount of effort she would have to put into a night on the town, but at least it would only be one night whereas seeing a therapist would be weeks and weeks of grueling introspection.

“Fine.”

Dawn squealed and bounced up and down, jostling Marianne in her spot on the bed. “Great, because I already told him you were going. He will be here at 6:00 to pick you up.”

“Are you kidding me? What were you going to do if I refused?”

“Have him come up to your bedroom door and serenade you until you gave up and came out.”

“You’re the one who needs to see a therapist,” Marianne said dryly, throwing the blanket off of her and heading towards the bathroom for a shower.

“At least I admit it!” Dawn said cheerfully at her retreating back.

~*~

Roland coughed and Marianne looked up from her halfway finished meal. By the look on his face the level of her disinterest was showing, probably due to the fact that at this point she wasn’t even trying. When Roland had picked her up Marianne had done her best to appear enthusiastic, especially while still in front of Dawn, but about a half hour in her energy levels dropped dramatically and it became too difficult to manage anything but a neutral expression.

Roland had been talking about himself from the beginning of their date till this very moment, which was probably why he hadn’t noticed sooner. She suspected he may not have ever noticed if it weren’t for the fact that there was a distinct lack of the expected pandering to his ego from Marianne.

“So…uh…tell me about yourself.” Roland said, flashing a charming smile. Marianne suppressed a sigh of disappointment. She was hoping when he realized how much she didn’t care to be there that he would get up and leave in a huff, but no such luck. Now she had to attempt conversation.

“Not much to tell, really.”

“Well, surely that can’t be true. I can tell you are a woman of depth.”

Marianne snorted inwardly. As if he were interested in anything deeper than skin level.

“After all, you’re a fellow writer. I find writing to be a very intellectually stimulating career, a playing field that only the most sharp witted can compete in. Why, that’s what drew me to you in the first place; I was very interested in what someone like you could create.”

“Have you read any of my work?” She asked, hoping to catch him off guard and force him to admit that he hadn’t, which would prove his previous statement superfluous.

“Of course! The character you created – Captain Greg, I think it was? It’s remarkable how lifelike he is…such a fascinating yet odious man.”

Marianne frowned, “Why odious?”

“Sea and sun-weathered skin, tall and awkward, overlarge ears and nose. Not to mention the way he relates to most of the other characters in the story; not exactly a pleasant man. Not like the main character of my book series – did I tell you I modeled him after myself?”

Roland began to drone on about how he resembled his main character – some shining perfect Adonis of a manchild – and Marianne couldn’t help but wonder what Bog would say if he were here.

 _I tend to agree with him myself, but that isn’t the way you put it in the story. You chose a more flattering side of truth._ She could almost hear him say. Odious was probably the word Bog would use to describe himself, though it wasn't at all accurate.

Marianne tuned back into the conversation in time for Roland to invite her for a walk outside. She wanted to refuse, but she had a feeling he wouldn’t take no for an answer and he was her ride back. She decided to humor him for the moment, or at least until she could come up with an iron clad excuse for him to bring her home right away.  
As they walked through the nearby city-center gardens, the chill autumn air energized her mind and she finally had it: sudden onset of intense period cramps. There was nothing more romance killing or final than womanly troubles. Not only could he not argue, but it was guaranteed to gross out someone who clearly erred on the side of mysoginistic.

She was about to bring it up when a strange feeling washed over her. It started in her chest and spread outward; a tingle, followed by a flush of heat. She paused and shook her head. An overwhelming floral scent filled her nostrils - it was so familiar. Where had she smelled it before?

“Are you alright?”

For the first time Marianne fully looked at Roland. The sun was just setting, casting a fiery glow to his golden hair and lighting his bright blue eyes. Her lips parted as he stepped closer and clasped her shoulders to steady her. How had she not noticed how beautiful he was before? She knew he was attractive, yes, but still. She hadn’t fully appreciated it until now. His hands were warm on her shoulders and she instinctively leaned into him. For a moment something flashed before her eyes - and Roland's hair was suddenly dark and long, flowing like a ebony waterfall down his shoulders - but when she blinked it was once again gold.

“Um…just a bit cold,” She said, her heart fluttering wildly as he drew her closer into an embrace.

“Well, don’t you worry. I’ll keep you warm.”

The apathy was gone, replaced now by a fire. Her heart was squeezing with the intensity of it, her body alight with it, and it felt so good that she found any anxiety over where these sudden feelings were coming from melting away. All that mattered now was that she do whatever it took to keep feeling it.

Roland tipped her chin up and kissed her, and she willingly, happily, responded.

~2 hours earlier~

“How dare you taint my potion with dark magic,” a voice snarled, faintly muffled from within the glowing blue globe from which it emanated.

“This time, it will work. Properly,” Another voice, like rocks scraping against wet cement came from the darkness. The only thing visible of the creature was a shadow of a hand that held a vial of venomous purple liquid that cast a faint glow against the walls of the cave.

“If by properly, you mean stealing away a person’s free will and overriding their true emotions, then you misunderstand the purpose of the love potion.”

“It took me 500 years but I think this time I've got it perfect. My master will be pleased."

“Why do you serve him still? Stuck living in the shadows while he sleeps comfortably, awaiting the time our kind can return.”

“It’s only a matter of time before the humans destroy themselves again and the balance returns to our favor. I am patient, I can wait.”

“You didn’t answer my question. Love is my realm; no one understands it better than I. It is love that forced me into hiding, and it is love that prompts you to risk your sanity and existence by staying awake all these years. What I don’t know is for whom that love is. Surely not your father?”

It scoffed at the word father, “It matters not. Once my _master_ awakens he will destroy you, and your hiding all these years will have been in vain,” The shadow began to move away.

“Who did you love? Why do you do this?” The voice from the globe seemed desperate now, not wanting the shadow to leave. It paused briefly.

“The goblin prince had been promised to me before SHE stole him away. Now, no matter how many times they reincarnate they will both pay, forever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter was a bit shorter than usual - it's just how it turned out when I wrote it. But don't worry, I'm plugging away on the next one :)
> 
> Hopefully you guys like the turn this chapter is taking - I wasn't sure whether or not to involve the more supernatural stuff into what was mostly a real world AU, but I hope it works. I've got some interesting things in store!


	9. Chapter 9

Bog stood in stony silence as he watched Marianne lean in and kiss Roland. Even though he had told her to move on, even though it had been a month it still hurt like hell.

And with HIM of all people.

Bog clenched his fists, trying to reign in the emotional energy that was roiling inside of him. Despite his best efforts stones on the ground around him began to rise, but neither Marianne or Roland noticed as they were quite busy with each other.

Bog turned away, not wanting to create a scene. He would see Marianne later, and he'd do everything in his power to keep it civil and businesslike; they had a book to finish, after all. He'd have to keep it together just for one more day, and then he could leave.

~*~

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Marianne came skipping into her bedroom, but it had been at least an hour. 

Marianne did a double take when she saw Bog sitting in the dark, “Bog! Oh my god, you scared the hell out of me! What are you doing here? When did you get back?”

“Earlier today.”

“Oh, well it's good you're back; we need to start getting more down on the story,” Marianne said airily, her nonchalance about his return just as much a stab to his heart as was her kissing Roland. When had he gotten so damned attached to her? This was his own fault, he reminded himself. He left her and told her to move on; he allowed himself to get over-involved with her in the first place. He only had himself to blame for his heartbreak. God, was it heartbreak? He cursed softly. He was more of an idiot than he thought; despite the promise he had made to himself that fateful day in the bakery he had gone and fallen in love again.

“Why did you let him kiss you?” He blurted suddenly, then turned away from her with a growl. So much for keeping is civil and businesslike. What was wrong with him?

“We’re you spying on me?” Marianne said, narrowing her eyes, “That’s the first thing you did when you got back? You know, Dawn was worried about you.”

“I wasn’t spying, I merely happened to be cruising in the vicinity,” Bog said. It was true enough, he had been wandering around. Wandering around while keeping a close eye out Marianne, just by pure coincidence.

Marianne snorted, “Right.”

Bog bristled and turned back towards her, “Why did you let him kiss you?” He repeated, flinching as the words left his lips. Apparently he wasn’t in control of his mouth any more, his damned heart was. His unreliable, naive, stupid heart. Things began to shake in the room and Marianne sighed dramatically as she put away the porcelain cat again.

“Not that it’s any of your business but I didn’t LET him kiss me. We kissed each other, willingly, at the same time because we both wanted to. You left, remember?” Marianne was clearly upset now, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. She swiped them away and glared at him, “You told me to live my life with people who were alive. Well that’s what I was doing.”

“But not – not with HIM."

“What’s wrong with Roland? He’s a perfectly nice person," Marianne leaned back on one leg and cocked her chin up defiantly, practically daring him to speak against Roland.

Bog threw his hands in the air, “Are you even listening to yourself? How could your own opinion of him change so drastically in a month? You were going out of your way to avoid the man not long ago.”

“Because I was intimidated by him,” Marianne blushed and looked down. “He’s a prolific author and handsome to boot. Who wouldn’t be nervous around him?”

Bog peered at her, “Is this some sort of joke? He’s superficial and vain. The man wears cologne so strong even I can smell it.”

“He just likes to smell nice, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Bog crossed his arms, “He’s misogynistic"

“He’s a bit traditional, perhaps, but hardly misogynistic.”

“Already finding excuses for him. That’s moving a bit fast considering you’ve only had one date,” Bog said acidly.

“As if you’re the expert on dating.”

Bog looked up, shocked, and Marianne had the good grace to appear guilty.

“I didn’t…mean,” She stuttered.

Bog clenched and unclenched his fists as he tamped down on the surge of emotion, not wanting to bring the house down. If anger caused it to shake, would heartbreak tear the place asunder? He didn’t want to find out. He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly.

“No, you meant exactly what you said,” Bog said, his voice hoarse with emotion. “And you know what? You’re right. I know next to nothing about dating, but I know plenty about how men like Roland think. He’s only after one thing.”

Marianne turned her back on Bog and stalked over to the window, “You’re wrong.”

Bog sighed. He didn't know what was going on, but he knew he had to back off a little if she was ever going to trust his counsel. He came up behind her and placed his hand on her shoulder, “Maybe…but be careful.”

She looked up but didn’t turn around. Her shoulder was rigid under his grasp and he lifted his hand away from her.

“Sorry,” He muttered. He hadn’t hurt her this time when he touched her; perhaps only skin to skin contact had that effect. Nevertheless, her body language made it clear that his touch was unwanted whether or not it caused her pain. The fact that he had so easily forgotten that he could hurt her with touch in the heat of the moment was a testament to why he was no good for her. This was for the best, he reminded himself. This was safer for everyone.

“You should go. We can get some writing done tomorrow,” Marianne said softly.

“Y-yeah,” Bog said and took a step back, “Sure. See you tomorrow.”

He made sure to make footsteps as he turned and walked away.

~*~

“You kissed?” Dawn squealed, then clapped her hands over her mouth before whispering conspiratorially, “and Boggy SAW it?” She hunched closer to Marianne, “How was the kiss? Was Boggy jealous? Are Roland’s kisses as good as he writes them? Come on, spill!”

“Yes, yes, it was wonderful. And…and I don’t care if he was jealous or not jealous. It’s not his business, anyway.”

“You know he didn’t leave to hurt you. He wanted you to be happy,” Dawn turned back to her methodical scraping and folding of the fudge, “I think it’s tragically romantic.”

Marianne made an impatient noise, “Dawn, I don’t want to talk about Bog. I thought you wanted to hear about how my date with Roland went,” She stuck her finger in the fudge and managed to get a lick before Dawn whacked her hand smartly and gave Marianne a warning look. Marianne sighed and took a step back, leaning against the wall and eyeing the fudge longingly.

“No early taste tests!”

“But it takes so long and I want it now,” Marianne whined.

Dawn eyed Marianne curiously, “You know, you’re a lot different since the date. You’ve been depressed for weeks and now suddenly everything’s hunky dory? I mean, I’m not complaining, but it’s kind of weird. You’re acting like…like how you were before Gerard.”

Marianne shrugged, “I just feel better. Roland really perked me up.” Perked up was an understatement. It was as if he had invaded her, mind and body, leaving no room for anything else. The fact that she wouldn’t see him again until tomorrow night was almost painful.

“Yeah, that too. Again, not complaining, but what’s with the sudden change in attitude towards Roland?”

“You were right, Dawn. I just had to give him a chance. He’s really very charming, and not to mention talented.”

Dawn snorted, “Talented? You always said you hated the Sunshine series. Every time I tried to get you to read it you would rant about stereotypical gender roles and unhealthy relationship models.”

“Well maybe I judged too soon. Maybe I ought to give it another go.”

“That’s the spirit!” Dawn said cheerily, “About time you came around.”

They were quiet for a moment as Dawn began to mold the fudge into a loaf shape.

“Seriously though, what did change your mind?”

“I don’t know, just a feeling I guess. I try – I try to be tough but I still want romance, you know? And there was all that drama with Bog and… and Roland is…well, he’s alive. He makes me feel good. That’s reason enough, right?”

“I just want to make sure you’re happy,” Dawn said, wiping off her hands and surveying her fudge satisfactorily. “If the guy that will make you happy also happens to be the fabulously handsome author of my favorite book series then that’s just a bonus! I could definitely get used to free advance copies of his new books.”

“He does make me happy. I think, anyway,” Marianne frowned.

“You think?”

“I don’t know…somehow he pulled me out of my depression. The only other thing that did that before was this house, and…” She trailed off, not wanting to admit that Bog’s haunting was a part of it too, “…and well, that’s got to mean something, right? Plus just thinking about him makes my legs all wobbly. His charming smile, that cute thing his hair does,” Marianne giggled, then slapped her hand over her mouth, “Oh god I sound like a stupid school girl with a crush.”

“You do! Just give it a couple more weeks and you’ll be getting into my glitter supply and wearing pink!” Dawn clapped her hands excitedly.

“Sorry Dawn, but that’s never going to happen.”

“We’ll see,” Dawn grinned slyly, “I bet Roland would like you sparkly.”

“Don’t you get near me with your sparkles and pink dresses! Now can I have some of the fudge or not?”

Dawn sighed, “Fine, fine. Sunny! Get your butt in here the fudge is do - ”

Sunny slid into the room and very nearly slammed into the counter in his haste.

“It’s done?! Ooooohh it’s perfect…” Sunny hovered over the fudge and gazed at it reverently. Dawn giggled and shooed him away.

“Let me cut it silly.” 

Dawn cut them each a piece and everyone savored the creamy melt-in-your-mouth texture.

“Dawn this is amazing.”

“Believe it or not, it’s Boggy’s recipe!”

“What? No way!” Sunny nearly dropped his fudge, “For real?”

“Yeah! Why else do you think the only update in the kitchen would be the marble counters?”

“Hey, I updated the lighting too!” Bog said defensively, having appeared from around the corner.

Marianne looked down awkwardly as he entered, which didn't go unnoticed by Dawn.

“In any case, who said you could raid my recipe drawer?”

“Recipe…drawer?” Sunny said slowly as Bog covered his face in his hands.

“Boggy bakes! There’s everything in there from fudge to bread. There was this one recipe for rosemary herb focaccia bread that I’m dying to make with my wild rice and chicken soup. I’ve never baked bread before though; I could use your help Boggy?” Dawn smiled hopefully at Bog who shook his head.

“No, I’m afraid I’ll be busy today. Marianne and I have a lot of writing to get done, and if we do it right we could finish the first draft of the story today.”

“Y-yeah. Sounds like a plan,” Marianne said, not meeting his eyes.

Everyone stood there uncomfortably for a bit before Sunny broke the silence.

“Well I, for one, am going to make good use of my day off by doing some exploring! There’s some caves a little east of here that you can only access by boat. Luckily renting a one person rowboat is really cheap this time of year. I’ll have to wear a wet suit and I’ll probably be freezing my ass off the whole time but it’ll be an adventure!”

“You’re nuts! I’d rather bask in a warm kitchen filled with the smells of herby goodness over an adventure in the cold any day,” Dawn shivered. “I hate this time of year. The only bonus is that you get to be extra cozy inside with yummy soup.”

“I’ll definitely be looking forward to that bread and soup when I come back; I’ll probably need it, heh. Anyway, I better get going.”

Sunny left the room, followed by Bog. As Marianne turned to leave Dawn gave her a meaningful look and Marianne rolled her eyes but stayed.

“You know how to bake bread,” Marianne said reproachfully.

“I know, but I wanted to cheer up Boggy. Try to be nice to him, okay?”

“He may be dead but he’s still a grown man, Dawn. He can take care of himself.”

“I know…but…”

“I better go. See you at dinner, Dawn,” Marianne said, slipping out of the kitchen before her sister could say another word.

~*~

Sunny was beginning to regret his decision to go adventuring on this day in particular as the wind began to pick up and the waves started to make it near impossible to navigate the waters without flipping. It was too late to turn back so he pressed on towards the caves, figuring he could wait there and hope the wind died down enough for him to get back safely before the sun set.

“Well, you wanted a distraction from your hopeless situation with Dawn and you got it you big dumbass,” He muttered as he dragged his boat up from the waves and onto the tiny rocky shore that led to the caves.

All around him were sheer cliffs that would defy climbing without the proper tools. If the winds didn’t die down soon he would have to hope for good enough cell phone reception to get a signal out and they would have to rappel down to get him. They being probably an expensive rescue team that he could in no way afford with his nonexistent health insurance.

“It’ll be okay. I won’t let this stop me; I am going to go exploring if it kills me. But hopefully it doesn’t. Kill me, that is,” Sunny rambled to himself as he took a good look into the cave’s entrance.

He rubbed his hands together and blew into them. The wet suit had helped shield him from the icy cold water, but his face and hands were frozen. If he had been thinking he would have brought something dry to change into when he explored, or maybe some of those little heat packs that activated with air, but of course he wasn’t really planning. All he was thinking about was how he had get out of the house. Dawn was talking nonstop about this guy she had met at the dance, and when she wasn’t talking about him she was talking about some guy she flirted with at work the other day when she was supposed to be helping other customers. Sunny wasn’t sure how much more he could take, honestly, so he supposed being freezing cold in some random cave was better than a warm kitchen if it meant he could escape her gushing about guys that were better than him in every way.

Sunny was about to see if he could maybe MacGyver a fire by using a spark from the batteries of his flashlight when a glint of blue light caught the corner of his eye.

“What the heck…” Sunny cautiously moved forward. As he got closer he saw it was what looked like a spider-web ball stuck between the prongs of a tree branch, propped up against the cave wall and glowing a faint blue. Last he checked spider webs didn’t glow in the dark. He glanced around nervously. With his luck, the cave would be filled with some new species of mutant killer spiders. 

“Is someone there?”

“AAGGH!” Sunny jumped, tried to turn and run, fell on his butt, and ended up crab crawling backwards away from the orb.

“Someone IS there! You should have seen your face, it was hilarious! Oh wait, you can!”

Sunny gazed at the orb, flabbergasted, as a ghostly image of his face appeared on it, contorted in terror.

“Wh-wh-what…?”

“Come closer.” 

Sunny could tell the voice was female, and images talking spider babies swarming him flooded his mind.

“No!” 

“Oh come on, I won’t bite.”

Sunny glanced behind him, checking his escape route, “Right, a spider that talks but doesn’t bite.”

“I am NOT a spider,” said the voice, sounding very offended.

“Then why are you in a spider web?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe I got TRAPPED? You can help me out. It’s faint, but I can tell you’ve got Elven blood in you,” she said.

Sunny cautiously crawled towards the orb and peeked in to see a tiny female figure, “What are you talking about? Who ARE you?”

“Elven blood. The fae went to sleep but the elves decided to disguise themselves and live out their days with the humans. It seems they must have mixed their blood with humans to continue their legacy. As to who I am, that’s a longer story.”

“I’m…an elf?” Sunny said incredulously.

“Barely,” she scoffed, “It’s been hundreds of years, after all. You’re generations removed from your forefathers. But, you will have to do. Reach in!”

“Uhh…”

“Just do it! Or do you want my death on your conscious?”

Sunny glanced around nervously, “There is a spider, then.”

“Something like that. And she’ll be back soon.”

“Okay, okay. Here goes!” Sunny covered his eyes and reached in. It felt like putting his hand into a bowl of ice cold jello, and he couldn’t help but peek. His hand inside the orb was tiny, and he very nearly pulled back. She grabbed onto his hand, her grip surprisingly warm against the chill of the orb.

“Now PULL!”

Sunny pulled, but his hand didn’t budge. He braced his legs against the cave wall, beginning to panic that he was going to be stuck here when whatever “she” was came back.

“It’s…not…working…!” He said through gritted teeth.

“Pull HARDER!”

Sunny clenched every muscle in his body for one last epic pull and finally with a loud pop the figure was flung out of the orb. Sunny fell back, just barely avoiding knocking his head on the hard ground. The figure…fairy? Was flying madly around the cave.

“I’M FREE! I’m FREEEEEEE!” She sung, then stopped in mid-flight, “No time to celebrate, there’s lots to do!” She flew out of the cave, and then a second later came back, “You better get going. You don’t want to be here when she gets back. That would be very bad. Toodleoo!”

Sunny scrambled up and ran out of the cave, not needing to be told a second time. It was still windy, but the waves weren’t as imposing as they were a half hour ago. Either way, he would rather take his chances with the waves than whatever it was that was coming back to the cave.

“Ghosts, fairies, and magical spiders,” Sunny grumbled as he readied the boat, “What’s next? Dragons?” He cringed, “Please not dragons. Oh god I jinxed it…”

Sunny rowed out into the freezing water, hoping against hope that the thing that had trapped the fairy wasn’t some horrifying mix of a spider and a dragon, and wondering what exactly it was that the fairy so urgently needed to accomplish.

~*~

It was grueling, exhausting, and painful, but after a few hours they finally managed to get it all down. Bog sighed in relief. Undoubtedly Marianne would have hours of editing ahead of her before it was readable, but he didn’t have to be around for that.

“Well… I guess that’s it, then,” Marianne said, closing her laptop.

“Yes, that’s all of it.”

Bog stood there uneasily for a few moments, unsure of what to do next or what to say. Marianne opened her mouth but before she was able to say what was on her mind her phone rang. She pulled it out and wasn’t able to conceal a squeal of glee. She glanced up at Bog quickly, almost guiltily, and he gave her a short nod before he left the room.

“Roland, what a nice surprise! I know, I don’t want to wait until tomorrow either. Of course I’m available, what else would I be doing? You should come over here Dawn is making the most delicious…” 

Marianne’s voice faded away as Bog drifted faster, needing to be out of the house. The walls flashed as he ghosted through them, and before he knew it he was on the beach, at the very spot he had very nearly kissed Marianne.

He would have to leave this place behind, no doubt about that. Whether or not his house was passed on to retired sailors no longer mattered to him. That desire seemed so meaningless and far off now, as if the man who had wanted that was someone completely different than the one he was now.

He wasn’t aware of how much time he had passed watching the ocean until he noticed that Sunny’s car was again parked in the driveway along with Roland’s sleek BMW. 

“No fancy limo tonight, eh?” He muttered to himself.

He couldn’t see much from his vantage point, just indistinct figures back-lit by the warm gas powered lights of the living room. If he squinted he could see they were animated, probably laughing about something. His heart ached with warring emotions at the sight. Joy to see Marianne so happy, jealousy that she was happy with someone like Roland, and a deep longing to be included in the living world again. He would never taste Dawn’s wild rice and chicken soup, never feel the warmth of the fire blazing away in his fireplace. He would never know the feeling of holding Marianne in his arms in front of that fire as they both sipped tea and read a good book together.

“You can be with her, no need to be out here in the cold brooding!” A peppy voice said from behind him. Bog whipped around to see a glowing blue figure about a quarter of his size. 

“Who – what – are you?”

Her eyebrows knitted together, “Here I just want to help you and you’re calling me a ‘what’. I have half a mind to just leave you to your misery.”

“Uhm…I’m sorry?” Bog tried. 

“Well, I suppose you can’t help it. Humans are so very young and primitive. With a measly life span of 100 years tops it’s a wonder you’ve even survived this long. A planet filled with children!” She laughed but then seemed to catch herself, “Oh dear, I’ve gotten off track, haven’t I? Plum, at your service," She grinned at him and struck a pose.

“And what do you want with me…?” Bog prompted.

“Well! You’re not even going to introduce yourself?”

“You seemed to know who I was already,” Bog said exasperated. “Now if you don’t mind, I would rather be alone right now.”

“But that’s just it! You don’t have to be alone. You SHOULDN’T be alone. I’m here to right a wrong I had a hand in long ago.”

“I’ve never met you, how could you have wronged me?”

“It’s a long story, but essentially you and Marianne are soulmates and - ”

“I don’t know where you’re coming up with this stuff, but Marianne has found someone else, and if you haven’t noticed, I’m dead. It’s kind of hard to have a relationship with someone if you’re dead.”

Plum made an impatient noise, “Just shut your trap and listen! I don’t have much time before she’ll come after me!”

“She…?” Bog said, but Plum ignored him and continued on.

“Anyway, what I have to tell you is: True loves kiss will bring you back to life!” Plum threw her hands in the air and twirled, “Isn’t that marvelous?”

“True loves kiss?” Bog scoffed, “You’re joking right? Like one of those silly Disney movies?”

“Of course I’m not joking. What’s a movie?”

“A story that you watch.”

“Like a play?”

Bog rolled his eyes, “Yes, like a play.”

“Well why didn’t you just say so?”

“Because I don’t speak crazy!” Bog growled impatiently.

"Don't you take that tone with me young man! True loves kiss you say comes from this disney story, yes? Well stories take their ideas from real life; in fact I'd wager much of your so called movies take inspiration from the magic of the old world. True loves kiss IS real, and it CAN fix you."

“I don’t buy it. There’s no way a kiss will bring me back to life, and if it would I’m positive there are consequences. You don’t get something for nothing, and coming back to life is a very big something.”

Plum fell quiet for the first time since she appeared.

“No…” She said slowly, “What a preposterous notion…” She looked away from him.

“You’re a poor liar. Tell me the truth or I’m leaving right now.”

Plum sighed, “Fine. You will be brought back to life, but it will take half of Marianne’s lifespan to do it,” At Bog’s horrified expressions she continued, talking quickly, “Marianne is going to live a very long time for a human – I’ve seen that much - the two of you will have decades together and I can say with certainty that Marianne cannot be happy without you, that's the nature of the curse upon you both!”

Bog began to stalk back towards the house, Plum following him desperately.

“Listen! You’re not like other humans! The two of you are singular soulmates, you cannot be happy with anyone else! There will always be a hole in her heart that she will never be able to fill if you don’t do this!” Plum cried after him, but Bog was no longer listening. 

There wasn’t an ice cube’s chance in hell that he would ever steal HALF of Marianne’s life just so he could live again. He was about to turn around and tell Plum to fuck off, but she had already frozen in place, staring at everyone through the bay window. Bog looked over and saw it was just Marianne, Dawn, Sunny, and Roland sitting and having drinks. Why did Plum look so terrified? He shrugged as Plum darted away; whatever it was he was glad she was gone.

Bog floated up to the balcony off of Marianne’s room and waited, invisible. He waited with his back turned as she undressed and got into bed. He waited as she played games on her cell phone under the covers. He didn’t enter the room until she was fast asleep. If this was going to work, she would have to be asleep. 

He floated over to her and contemplated her sleeping form. The moonlight was strong that night, and it streamed through the window alighting her pale face. He sat down on the bed and gently brushed the hair off her forehead, being careful not to actually touch her skin. It was better this way, to say goodbye like this. The unconscious world was simpler, more honest. This way he wouldn’t have to look into her eyes as he said his farewells. This way he couldn’t overthink things and talk himself out of going.

“Marianne, do you love Roland?” He asked softly.

Marianne smiled slightly, her eyes still closed, “Yes.”

“And if he ever hurts you, you’ll punch his dick off,” Bog said flatly. It wasn’t a question.

“He’d never hurt me, but of course.”

“Marianne, I have to go.”

Marianne’s brow furrowed, and for a moment he thought he would wake but she didn’t.

“It’s for the best. I…I don’t want to hurt you, and if I stay I know it will just make things harder for you. Whatever nonsense that crazed fairy might be spouting, I know you’re better off with anyone but me. Be happy, Marianne. Live.”

Bog drifted away from her, and as he left the room he didn’t hear her murmur, still unconscious,

“I don’t want you to go…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so sorry. Writing this chapter was really hard, and trust me, I prefer writing witty repartee over angst any day, but alas conflict is necessary to move the story along.
> 
> Just remember I have a happy ending planned...it's just going to be a bit of a rocky road before we get there.


	10. Chapter 10

“So, Bog is gone for good? How do you know?” Dawn asked sleepily as she fumbled for the coffee bag hiding amongst the cereal boxes.

Marianne’s shrugged, “I dunno, I just do.”

“You know, now that I think of it, I had a dream about Boggy last night. He said some things…I can’t really remember though. Nice things, I think? But then he took my body glitter and dumped it out the window.”

Marianne snorted, “So it was a good dream, then.”

Dawn stuck her tongue out at Marianne and poured the coffee beans into the grinder, “I mean maybe it wasn't a dream. Maybe he said his goodbyes in some sort of special ghosty way," Dawn flipped on the grinder, "If you let me do all the work making the coffee I’m gonna put a buttload of sugar in yours. And cream.”

Marianne groaned as the scent of ground coffee beans filled the kitchen, and she begrudgingly started setting up the coffee maker. “For once can’t you just do something nice for your big sister and not make her move so early in the morning?”

“Nope. It says so on page 56 paragraph 4 in the sisterly contract: Cannot make life easier for big sister in the morning.”

Marianne grumbled quiet obscenities as Dawn dumped the coffee into the filter and snapped the lid shut.

“So how are you feeling about…Bog leaving?” Dawn asked tentatively.

“I don’t have feelings about it. We all knew he would probably leave at some point, anyway.”

Dawn didn’t look convinced, but to Marianne’s relief she didn’t push the matter. The truth was Marianne didn’t know how to feel about Bog leaving. Every time she thought about it she found her mind wandered to Roland. Her thoughts were dominated by him.

“Do you have any plans with Roland?” Dawn asked, as if reading her mind.

“Yeah, I see him tonight, but then he has to go on some business trip for a couple weeks,” Marianne said.

“Aww, too bad.”

Marianne wasn’t sure how she would stand it. Even thinking about being away from him that long set her mind into spirals of depression. She would just have to throw herself into editing and hope for the best.

~*~

Four days later Dawn dragged Marianne out of her room and forced her into the shower.

“We’re going to spend the day on the beach. Sunny and I both have the day off and I plan on making the most of this happy coincidence.”

“It’s fifty degrees, that’s hardly warm enough for the beach,” Marianne said as she reluctantly began to run the water in the tub.

“Fifty is as warm as it's going to get for months. We need to accept this beautiful day with open arms like the gift it is! Come on, the sun is shining and there’s no wind – that makes it more than bearable.”

“And why am I showering BEFORE a day spent outside?” Marianne asked as she began stripping off her clothes.

Dawn wrinkled her nose, “To make YOU more bearable. I don’t think you’ve left your room for more than five minutes the past few days. I let it slide because I was busy at work, but no longer! Now hurry up, it’ll take me 20 minutes to gather up our picnic things and then I want to get going!”

Marianne begrudgingly went through the motions, and before she knew it she was sitting on the beach while Dawn and Sunny played volleyball with a net that was hastily constructed of two large sticks and a string tied between them. Currently they were arguing about what it meant if the ball passed under the string.

“If there was a net under the string it would have caught the ball, meaning you lost a point,” Sunny said.

“But there ISN’T a net. Who said we were playing volleyball anyway? We’re playing Dawnball, and that means I get to make up the rules.”

“Seems mighty convenient, being able to make up rules that allow you to score more points,” Sunny said with a raised eyebrow.

“Are we gonna eat or not?” Marianne called after them.

Dawn shrugged and jogged over to Marianne with Sunny right behind her. “Why not, Sunny is taking all the fun out of the game anyway,” She said, starting to unpack the food from the basket.

“It would just be helpful to know the rules before we play,” Said Sunny as he laid out the blanket and placed stones on the corners.

Dawn rolled her eyes, “But that’s the point of Dawnball. You make up the rules as you go along!”

“In that case, CALVIN,” Sunny said with a laugh, “My new rule is that you can’t make up rules after the fact; you have to make them up during or before the game.”

Dawn pouted, “No fair!” She started laying out the food and then perked up as something occurred to her, “If I’m Calvin then that means you’re Hobbes. Ooh! MY next rule is that you have to get a tiger suit and wear it at the next game if you lose!”

“This game really isn’t going my way.”

“What did you expect? It’s DAWN we’re talking about here,” Marianne said dryly. “You’re lucky she didn’t say the loser bathes in glitter.”

“Don’t! Don’t give her any ideas!”

“GLITTERY FUZZY TIGER! Marianne, you’re a genius,” Dawn crowed.

“Thanks,” Sunny grumbled as he pulled his sandwich out of the basket, “So, uh, something weird happened to me when I was out a few days ago. I’ve kind of been debating whether or not to tell you guys.”

“Oooh, DO tell,” Dawn said, ignoring her sandwich and diving into the dessert first.

“I was in a cave, trying to get away from some killer waves.”

“You told us that part,” Marianne said.

“Yeah, well I didn’t tell you everything…first because Roland was there but then because I thought you guys might think I was crazy. But then I remembered Bog and I figured we live in crazy world so maybe it’s the world that’s gone crazy, not me.”

“Or maybe it’s both,” Dawn said with a grin.

“Uh...anyway, I need to get this off my chest, even if you two do think I’m nuts.”

“Okay, but we reserve the right to point and laugh,” Marianne said with a smirk.

Dawn smacked Marianne’s arm, “Tell us Sunny.”

Sunny rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “So I was in the cave and I saw this weird ball thing made of spider webs and inside there was this fairy like creature.” Sunny paused, unsure as he looked at Dawn and then Marianne for a response. They must have looked incredulous because he coughed and looked down, embarrassed.

“Uh…and then…um…she told me to reach in and help her and I did and my hand was really tiny but then it got stuck! But then she got out and she told me to run because there was some spider monster after her and she said she had stuff she had to do but I don’t know what because what kind of business do fairies have anyway and apparently I’m part elf but not like a lot because I guess there were elves like a million years ago and they had babies with humans,” Sunny said in a rush.

“Whoa.” Marianne said, “That’s…uh…a lot to take in.”

“You don’t think I’m crazy, do you?” Sunny asked, cringing.

“Well…I guess in a world where ghosts really do exist it’s not impossible,” Dawn said slowly.

“Maybe a little crazy?” Marianne said awkwardly.

Sunny groaned and fell back on the blanket, “I should have kept it to myself.”

Dawn shoved the rest of the cake into her mouth and went to Sunny, “Noo, you’re not crazy. And even if you are, we still like you. Right, Marianne?”

“That’s a rhetorical question, right?” Marianne laughed at the look Dawn gave her, “I’m kidding. We’re all a little crazy so I think it would be pretty hypocritical if we excommunicated you for this.”

“I guess I just wanted to tell you because if there really is some spider monster thing out there you probably shouldn’t be coming out alone at night, you know?”

“Sounds reasonable enough,” Dawn nodded.

“I don’t know about you guys but if I some monster tries to mess with me I can kick its ass no problem.”

“Marianne, you were hiding behind a pillow during the whole Shelob part in The Return of the King,” Dawn said.

“I did not. You can’t prove anything.”

They ate the rest of their lunch and talked of less crazy things. After that Marianne begged out of another game of Dawnball, not wanting to take the chance of being forced into a glittery tiger outfit.  
Later as the sun started to set Dawn laid out to soak in the remaining rays while Sunny whittled away at a piece of driftwood. Marianne almost felt peaceful, sitting in the sun while she read her book, but Roland was still there at the back of her mind making it impossible for her to be truly at peace. Every day he was away from her the need to see him grew. It was as if he were some sort of addiction and she hadn’t had her fix in days. The very idea of being addicted to a man was downright unsettling, but not as upsetting as being apart from him. That fact should have unsettled her even more, but Roland was like a road block in her mind. Any thought process that led anywhere but how much she missed him was aborted before it had a chance to grow into anything more than a passing fancy.

“It’s so pretty!” Dawn’s shrill voice surprised Marianne out of her reverie and she sat up to see what all the commotion was about.

Sunny was showing Dawn the piece of wood he had been working on, “See, uh, we can put it here so everyone knows it’s our special beach.”

The piece of driftwood had been carved with spirals and loops, and at the center were two names: Dawn and Marianne.

“I love it, but…where’s your name?” Dawn asked.

“Uhh…just didn’t have the room, I guess.”

From the look on Sunny’s face, Marianne knew that the real reason he hadn’t put his name on there was because he didn’t feel like he was an official part of the family, that he didn’t belong because as far as he knew Dawn would never feel the same way about him as he did about her. Marianne nearly tried to offer some comforting words but decided against it. It would just make things more awkward.

Marianne glanced at Dawn and was surprised to see Dawn’s eyes fixed on Sunny too, as if she was getting the same thing from Sunny’s expression. She looked confused, almost upset.

“Next time we come out here you can put your name on,” Dawn said firmly, taking the piece of driftwood and driving it deep into the sand so it wouldn’t move, “But for now I think we should be getting inside. The sun is nearly over the horizon and I’m getting cold.”

They were all quiet and lost in thought as they made their way back up the beach.

~*~

The next two weeks dragged by, and by the last day Marianne was practically itching from head to toe with the desire to see Roland. She was so used to being self-reliant that the need to see him was starting to make her angry. It didn’t seem right, somehow, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it.

So when the call came from E&G publishing informing her that they intended to publish her story as a bound book she was ecstatic for more than the obvious reason: it would be a cling-free reason to visit Roland a bit early to tell him the good news. They had planned on meeting for dinner at the café, but Marianne didn’t want to wait.

She felt a little guilty looking through her publisher’s desk after a thinly veiled excuse to get him out of the office, but it wasn’t as if she was stealing classified information. She wanted to surprise Roland and she could hardly do that if she asked him for his address. The part of her that would have objected to this sort of behavior was getting quieter every day, as if cowed by the intensity of her feelings for Roland. That small part could see she was a different person with Roland, a person that the old her wouldn’t like. But going to Roland was like being pulled by a rip tide, even if some part of her could see that it wasn’t good she couldn’t stop herseld.

She was almost giddy with excitement when she pulled up the driveway of an elegant but small house two hours down the coast. She had expected something much bigger, perhaps with gates and white columns, but she supposed even world famous authors could live modestly sometimes. The yard that surrounded the house was filled with trees, still colorful but half bare, the fallen leaves crunching underfoot as Marianne strode up the walkway. She couldn’t tell if Roland was back for sure or not – the garage was closed and didn’t have windows – but if he wasn’t there she could just wait for him on his porch. She really didn’t want to – the weather had finally turned after that day on the beach and it was now in the low 30’s – but she also didn’t want to run her car just for the heat when gas was so expensive.

Just in case, she knocked on the door. She was about to go sit on the step when the door creaked open revealing a tiny slip of a woman. Bright red hair haloed a heart-shaped face, a stark contrast against her tan skin and hazel eyes. Though she was small Marianne could see the outline of muscle beneath the sleeves of her shirt; she had the lean build of a dancer, the type of person who was strong but didn’t show it. Despite that, the way she held herself made her look even smaller, as if she were confident in her own weakness.

When she looked Marianne up and down her face crumpled, and she nearly burst into tears. Marianne took a step back, unsure, but before she could turn around the woman took her wrist and firmly led her inside. She brought her to the living room and motioned for Marianne to sit down, and Marianne, still baffled by the strange display, listened without protest.

“Who are…?” Marianne asked.

“My name is Rosalyn. It’s cold out there, would you like some tea?” She asked softly, and before Marianne could respond Rosalyn had left the room.

Did Roland have a sister? She didn’t look anything like him. Maybe they were adoptive siblings. Marianne stood up to get closer to the fire, wanting to warm her hands, but was distracted by the photos that sat on top of the mantel. There were a lot of just Roland, glamor shots and the occasional family photo, but one in particular caught her eye because it stood out like a sore thumb amongst the elaborately framed head shots. It was a cell phone selfie in a cheap dollar store plastic frame. In the picture Roland had his arm around Rosalyn, and cradled in her arms was a tiny baby with a tuft of white blond hair.

“He wouldn’t let me get professional photos done,” A voice said behind Marianne, nearly startling her into dropping the photo. She put it back on the mantel and turned around, her hands starting to tremble as her subconscious began to grasp what the conscious mind wasn’t yet ready to.

Rosalyn set the tea down on the table and stared vacantly into the fire, “He said he didn’t think it would be good for his image to be seen as a father. That he had to appear young and sexy to keep selling books. It’s the same reason he refused to marry me.”

Marianne’s stomach clenched and she stumbled forward as the floor dropped out beneath her. Rosalyn was there in an instant, her firm grasp guiding Marianne to sit. Marianne barely registered making contact with the couch because she still felt as if she were falling, and when she finally met the cold hard ground it came in stages. The pieces of herself that had lagged behind the rest of her fell back into place, and with each piece she felt her emotions draining away, bit by bit, until she was again as numb as she was before she had kissed Roland.

When Marianne looked up at Rosalyn’s ashen face, one emotion reared its ugly head above her apathy: shame. Shame that she had let herself have feelings for someone like Roland. Shame that she was the inadvertent cause for more pain in this woman’s life.

“I’m sorry,” Rosalyn said quietly.

Marianne drew back, “Sorry? Sorry for what? This isn’t your fault-”

“I’m sorry you had to find out like this. Usually once he has his fun for a while he just dumps them and they never know.”

Usually? Once he has his fun? Marianne knew she should be feeling outraged right now. She should be feeling angry, hurt, heartbroken, betrayed. But all that she had was the damnable numbness and the shame that was quickly blossoming into self-hatred. She thought she was smarter than this, that she wouldn’t let this happen to her again, but she was wrong.

Marianne had lied to Bog. She had seen Gerard one last time after he had broken up with her. The day after he had unceremoniously dumped her via text, Marianne found him mooning over some girl in a coffee shop that he and Marianne used to go to all the time together. She only heard one thing before she had run out the door;

I told you, darling, I was only with her for the money and now she’s broke. I’ve only ever loved you.

She should have kicked him in the balls. Should have decked him. SOMETHING. But instead she had run away crying. She hadn’t told Bog because she knew he had this image of her; strong and confidant. The way he looked at her, she could almost believe it. Now she knew better.

“I – I have to go,” Marianne got up and headed towards the door, Rosalyn right behind her.

“Are you sure? You seem a bit unsteady.”

“Yes, I don’t want to be here when Roland gets back.”

Rosalyn’s eye’s darted to the window, as if she had forgotten Roland was on his way home, and her expression was fearful now. “Ah, well, please drive safely…and I’m…I’m sorry, truly I am.”

“No, I’m sorry.” Marianne turned away and ran for the car, wishing she could just keep running until she had left her life far behind.

~*~

Humiliation and self-contempt had spiraled on the drive home until they consumed what little emotional energy she had left. Now she stood at the front door, her hand hovering over the handle, unwilling to step in and face her sister.

It was worse this time.

Far, far worse.

The eyes that looked back at Marianne in the reflection of the door window were empty, tired. One look and Dawn would know something was terribly wrong, and she would be right. This felt different than before, more final, like this time it wouldn’t end. Like she had irrevocably broken her capacity to feel and would spend the rest of her life in a boring, emotionless haze.

Marianne reluctantly turned the door handle and tip-toed inside. She had nearly made it to her room when her sister came bounding up to her.

“You’re back! How did it go? What did…you…” Dawn trailed off as she saw Marianne’s face. “Oh no. What happened?”

“I can’t talk about it, Dawn,” Marianne said as she squeezed through the door to her room so Dawn wouldn’t be able to follow her in.

“Not even with me?”

“I’m sorry. I just can’t,” Marianne closed the door and turned the lock. A moment passed and she heard quiet footsteps walking down the stairs.

Marianne’s cheeks felt hot and damp, and when she brought her fingers to them they came away wet. Effect without cause: like a downpour when the sun was still out. Her body was going through the motions while her mind lagged behind like the cripple it was.

Marianne sat down on the edge of her bed and gazed at her wet fingers. At that point she should have realized that those tears were a warning of what was to come. The tremor before the earthquake; the quiet before the storm. But instead she just sat there like the oblivious fool she was until it hit her like a ton of bricks and all she could do was scream.

~*~

Dawn had gone somewhere with Sunny, probably work. Marianne knew this because if her sister had been there then she would have broken down the door the instant Marianne lost it.

Marianne had reached what must be the eye of her emotional hurricane. She could still feel it swirling ominously all around her, but her body was tired and couldn’t keep doing what it had been doing. The only thing that had stopped it in the first place was the coughing fit brought on by crying, which led to dry heaving, which left her sprawled on the floor and gasping for breath but at least no longer sobbing hysterically. Her eyes were puffy, her throat raw and burning with thirst and exertion.

Marianne struggled up and uncapped the water bottle on her bedside table. She nearly dropped it before managing to bring it to her lips and gulp it down, ignoring the stale taste because she knew she wouldn’t make it to the kitchen for fresh water and had to take what she could get.

“Oh dear. I didn’t want it to happen like this.”

Marianne’s head lolled to the side to find what appeared to be some sort of fairy/genie creature.

“Are you going to start doing celebrity impressions in Robin Williams voice? Because if I’m hallucinating it might as well be entertaining.”

“What?”

“Genie of the lamp. Aladdin. You’re my hallucination, you ought to know.”

The creature bristled, “I am most certainly NOT a genie. My name is Plum and I am a FAIRY thank you very much.”

“Whatever.”

“I won’t blame you for the slight, after all you’ve got quite the love potion hangover.”

“What?”

“It isn't common knowledge, but it’s not true loves kiss itself that breaks the spell. A love spell is broken by any realization of truth about your true love or about the object of your false affection – it’s just that most often the realization is brought on by a kiss. Which is much more romantic than the way it happened with you, I take it, since Bog isn't here. What did you find out about him? Roland, was it?"

"That he's a cheating bastard," Marianne groaned and ran her hand down her face. "Fuck. I really am hallucinating. I'm going to have to go to a therapist,”

“You humans are so very difficult. I think I’m going to have to take a different track so you don’t run off like Bog.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m not going to tell you – I’m going to show you.”

Before Marianne could move Plum plunged her hand into Marianne’s head and her vision blurred as she dropped off into unconsciousness.

~*~

Trathnona’s face was grim as she oversaw the battlefield from on high. It was filled with the injured and dying, and Trathnona could see Maidainn flitting back and forth trying her best to heal each being just enough to pull them out death’s grasp before moving to the next. She didn’t discriminate – both grey and light courts benefited from her healing touch. Not for the first time Trathnona envied her sister for her natural gift in healing magics – such things had always eluded her.

So much of her kin were dead, beyond any help her sister could provide, and they were running out of time. The humans had advanced in numbers and knowledge yet again, enough so that soon the great sleep would come upon them. Sleep, or risk being overcome by humanity. Sleep, or risk insanity. But to leave things like this – when they awoke Oberon would surely take over what was left of both courts and rule with impunity and he would take Trathnona as his prize.

Plum had escaped the dark king’s clutches to warn her, but by then it was too late. Under Trathnona's father's urging her council had taken swift action before Trathnona had been crowned, starting a war before she had a chance to stop them. The resulting battle took her father's life as well as the grey fae king and many people from both sides. By this point it didn’t matter what had started the war, too much life had been lost on both sides for either to give it up. A need for revenge ran deep with their kind, and forgiveness was not a trait that either court held in abundance, but Trathnona had to try. She had to find a way to end the war that was killing them all.

Finally she found what she was looking for; Bogach. She drew herself up, her now short hair whipping around her head in the wind. A storm was coming, so she had to act fast. It was now or never.

“Bogach! Hear me! This madness does not need to continue!” Trathnona shouted, “You cannot refuse to speak to me forever! If you will not meet me at a table of peace then you shall meet me on the battlefield!”

And then, as inevitable as the rising tides, he was there, his face fierce and unyielding. “You betrayed me! I trusted you! And you – you sent your army to my door. My father is dead by your people’s hands! The only madness here is yours if you think I will just roll over and give up,” He growled and lunged for her.

Trathnona called her sword in an instant and blocked his blow just in time, the force of it vibrating down her arms and making her bones ache. He wasn’t holding back now; he had her on pure strength but she was faster. Each blow he threw she dodged or met in kind, but she knew she couldn’t keep this up forever. She had to get through to him, fast. She was fighting to avoid injury, and he was fighting to injure – such battles never ended well for the former party.

“I didn’t start this war, and I don’t want it to continue!” Trathnona huffed with exertion as she threw his staff away from her before bounding back out of his reach. “The council members who went over my head have been punished for their crimes, and my father has already paid with his life by your people's hands."

Trathnona could see in his eyes that he wanted to believe her, but his face remained set and determined as he lunged for her again, "For all I know those are lies,” he snarled. “Do you take me for a fool?”

Trathnona dodged, but just barely, the tip of his staff slicing a red line down her arm. She clenched her teeth against the pain, “You are no fool. I am! I’m a fool for thinking, even for a moment, that your father would want to murder my mother. I’m a fool for not seeing the obvious – that it was Oberon all along! He wants this war, he wants us weak!”

Bogach was wavering; now was the time. She had to make a statement, all or nothing. She banished her weapon and spread her arms, “I trust you Bogach. I know in your heart that you know what I said is true. Do what you will to me, but please, stop this war.”

Bogach brought his staff to her throat. Unshed tears shone in his eyes, and this close Trathnona could see the deep dark circles under them. “What am I to do? It doesn’t matter if I believe you or not – my people call for revenge. They do not want peace.”

“We can do it together, Bogach. I – I love you," Trathnona said fiercely, "Why have you been turning me away all this time?"

Bogach lowered his staff and it disappeared, his arms slumping, “I never stopped loving you. Not even when I thought it was you who put the order out to kill my father. I knew that if we went into peace talks you would win because of my – weakness. That’s - that's why."

Trathnona grabbed Bogach’s hands, “It’s not weakness – Love is strength. Strength that will help us pull our kingdoms together.” Trathnona remembered her mother's last words to her - _I chose to rule alone because I thought that to love another being would be a weakness I could not afford...but seeing you and Bogach...now I see that I was wrong._

Bogach looked up at her then – and for a few precious seconds she could see hope begin to bloom in his eyes – but it was over before it began. He fell first – and she seconds after. Trathnona feebly felt at her side to find a poisoned dart lodged between her ribs, and from Bogach’s heaving gasps it looked like the dart had nicked him on the way to its intended target.

“Bogach!” A voice cried. Trathnona looked for the source to see Damhan Alla hiding at the edge of the forest, but before she could leave the cover of darkness to go to Bogach’s side a hand wrapped around her waist and pulled her back. Oberon gazed at Trathnona, and she could hear his voice inside her head.

_This is only the beginning, my queen. Death will not be a respite for you or yours._

Trathnona tried to move but the poison was moving quickly and her limbs were limp and weak. She lolled her head to one side and to her dismay saw her sister clutched in the arms of her best friend and confidant, an elf who had stayed by her side when the rest of his race had chosen not to take the great sleep with the Fae and instead integrate with the humans. From the way he rocked back and forth and his tear stained face she knew Madainn was dead, or dying.

 _Death will not be a respite,_ Oberon’s words repeated in her mind, _for you or yours._ The words should have chilled her, but she knew what it meant. It meant he wouldn't let her die here because of his need to punish her, his need to own her. Bogach wouldn't die, Maidainn wouldn't die, simply because he wanted Trathnona to not take comfort in the fact that her loved ones were free from his ability to hurt them. Instead of crushing her spirit his words bolstered her; whatever curse he had set on her would give her extra time, and that meant she would have time to fight, time to win.

She moved her head to the other side to see Bogach, who was dragging himself towards her. He reached her, and took her hand in his. His smile for her was small this time, but it still lit up his face.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered, “I should have…”

“No, it’s not your fault. I love you Bogach. This isn’t the end. We will fight again."

“Is that a challenge? Because if so…then I accept,” Bogach said weakly as they both drifted away.

~*~

Marianne rose with a gasp, and Plum dropped, breathing hard.

“W-what was that?” Marianne was shaking, and her vision was black around the edges but slowly returning.

“Your memories – of your first life. Your true life. How you...died, only to be brought back by this curse."

“I’m – Trathnona?” Marianne’s head was spinning. It was all too much to believe, and yet – and yet she knew, deep down, it was true. Just as she knew that the strange creature she had dueled with, had fallen for, was Bog. His death – it was real, she still felt the grief, the anger, the powerlessness she had felt in those final moments. Marianne drew in a shuddering breath and wiped the tears from her eyes.

“Yes. And I – I helped curse you. King Oberon couldn’t weave a curse that powerful on his own, and I knew he would kill you all if I didn’t – you, Bogach, your sister - he already had killed your mother, after all. But I can’t let this pass. I cannot let Damhan Alla continue her experiments on my love potion, and as long as you are cursed she will never give up. She’s kept me locked up for hundreds of years forcing me to make my potion so she can do heinous things to it.”

“The love potion? Is that what…Roland,” Marainne spat his name, “Used on me?”

“Yes, and it wouldn’t have even worked if she hadn’t perverted it, because of your love for Bog. Thank goodness she hadn’t found a way to make it unbreakable, or you’d be in love with that Roland creature forever.”

Marianne winced, “So why don’t we confront this…Damhan Alla? Now that you’re free, surely…?”

Plum shook her head, “No, she is far more powerful than me. I may have more raw magic, but it isn’t offensive magic. That’s why I need to free you from your curse – once you and Bog are free you’ll regain enough of your magic to summon your weapons and perhaps you can defeat Damhan Alla. You won’t be as powerful as you once were – being stuck in human form – but you’d have a better chance than me."

"Wait, summon a weapon? Like a sword?"

"Yes, why?"

"I made an axe turn into a sword once...I thought I was just imagining things..."

Plum sighed in relief, "That's good to hear. If you can summon it while still under the curse then it should be easier to wield once the curse is broken. Between you and your sister we may just have a solution"

“You mean Dawn is…?”

“Yes, I managed to bind her soul to the curse as well so that every time you would be reborn she would be reborn with you. It was lucky I did, or her death would have been as final as the rest of your kin.”

“But what can Dawn do?” Marianne’s head was beginning to hurt. This was all too much to take in.

“Your sister has always been especially gifted with healing and light magic. As with you, it won’t be as powerful stuck in human form, but she may have enough to banish the darkness from Damhan Alla’s heart as soon as you are able to defeat her, which would be much better than killing her. Her death would bring too many repercussions on our already war torn race once we awaken again.”

“So…so what do we have to do?”

“We have to go to Bog. I can’t find him, but you should be able to.”

“But isn’t his home in Scotland? How on earth am I going to get to Scotland? I don’t have enough money for even a one-way ticket in the coachiest coach seat they have.”

Plum slumped, “I hadn’t thought of that. Royal fae can shift – move from place to place instantaneously – but I suppose that doesn’t help us right now.”

Marianne swore quietly as a thought came to her, the idea so vile that she much have looked sick because Plum flew up to her, concerned.

“Are feeling alright? Sometimes memory retrieval can have some ill effects…”

“No…I think I know of a way to get to Scotland, but…it’s going to be terrible.”

“If you have a way to do it, you have no choice,” Plum drew in a deep shuddering breath, “I have to go, I need to recharge. I’ll come back as soon as I can.”

As Plum flew off Marianne felt a dread growing inside her, knowing what she would have to do.

There was only one person she knew with enough money to take her to Scotland and back.

She would have to pretend to make up with Roland.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a few edits I'm still feeling a bit insecure about this chapter, but I'm not going to hold it back from you guys any longer. Hopefully I hit all the right marks! The next chapter is the one I've been looking forward to writing for a long time. 
> 
> Man am I happy I don’t have to write a love potioned Marianne any more. It was really getting to me.
> 
> I really liked how the character Rosalyn came out, and I think we will be seeing more of her later at some point. Don't worry, I won't leave her with Roland...there are better things in store for her.
> 
> Your comments give me life! Constructive criticism, praise, even just a simple "Loved it!" all of it helps motivate me. You guys rock :)


	11. Chapter 11

“You told me it would work no matter what!” Roland ground out. “You told me she would be mine, heart and soul. Her _and_ any other woman I wanted. That was the deal. I never even got her to bed!” Roland stalked over to his full length mirror and started fussing with his hair. The vanity lights cast stark shadows in the otherwise darkened room, but it was Roland’s shadow that stood out the most. It writhed and stretched until it did not resemble a man at all but instead a many-limbed monster. It stretched and curled around him, a shadowy face with red eyes coming to meet his.

“Relax. You can use the potion as many times as you need to. Besides, I’m very close to perfecting it," The shadow said in a whispery voice.

“I didn’t let you…whatdya call it…share my shadow so you could give me an imperfect potion.”

“Trath – Marianne is a special case. But rest assured, you will have her.”

Roland balled his fists. “She stood me up. We were gonna meet at that café, and she never showed up. I don’ care if she found out about Rosaline. No one stands me up, not ever.”

Damhan-Alla sighed, and uncoiled herself from Roland. The man truly was a single-minded fool, but for the time being he was useful to her. By binding her shadow to his she could more easily traverse the human world during the day and it helped to stabilize her condition. Soon enough he would be dead; shadow binding was a heavy burden for a mortal so it wouldn’t be longer than a month or two. Either way, dead or alive, as long as Trathnona was in love with Roland it would keep her away from HER Bogach. She simply had to perfect the potion so it would be impossible to break. Damhan-Alla may not be allowed to destroy Trathnona's soul due to her father's decree, but that still left plenty of wiggle room for Damhan-Alla to make Trathnona desperately wish to be put out of her misery. 

“You will think of something, I’m sure,” She soothed. Doubtless the only reason he was so obsessed with Trathnona was because she didn’t want him – she was the one who slipped from his grasp. On that one point she could sympathize with him. “I’m going to check on something. I’ll be back soon.”

It had been a while since she checked on her little…guest. Damhan-Alla was so close to the final formula – but she was out of potion to experiment on. It was time to fill her coughers.

~*~

“I can’t do it. I just can’t. I’ll end up punching his stupid face and then the jig will be up,” Marianne said as she paced the living room. She had explained the situation to Dawn and Sunny, who had been startled to say the least to find her with dark trails of mascara down her cheeks and looking like hell.

“Heck, I want to punch him in the face. Love potion? I mean I kind of get the appeal, but…” Dawn gave Sunny a sharp look and he grimaced, “Not that I would actually USE it…”

“Anyway, if anyone’s punching Roland it’s going to be me. But I’m not going to use my fists, I’m going to use a bat like a LADY,” Dawn said fiercely

“A metal bat?” Suggested Sunny.

“With spikes,” Agreed Dawn.

“As much as I would like to continue talking about how and with what we will be maiming Roland, we need to come up with a plan,” Marianne sat down and rubbed her temples. “I know this is the only way, but I don’t know how I will be able to keep my temper in check around that human trash heap.”

“Maybe tell him you want to keep the anticipation up, so you need to get separate plane seats?” Suggested Sunny.

“Yeah, maybe,” Marianne said. “I’m going to go get some cocoa,” She got up and headed towards the kitchen, Dawn close behind her.

“How are you doing? How do you feel?” Dawn asked once they were safely out of Sunny’s earshot. Marianne gave Dawn a grateful look; as much as she loved Sunny, she didn’t really feel close enough to him to share all the details that were gnawing at her.

“I feel violated,” Marianne hugged herself. “I feel gross and scared and so..so ANGRY. He stole my free will. That’s…that’s terrifying to think about. He could do it to other women.” Marianne leaned against the wall and put a shaking hand to her mouth. “Oh God I hadn’t even thought of that. We need to do something, I just don’t know what. He is the last person on Earth who should have that kind of power.”

Dawn squeezed Marianne in a quick hug before moving to get the hot cocoa mix. “Don’t worry. We’ll think of something.”

They were silent as Dawn went through the motions of making the cocoa, allowing Marianne a precious few moments to compose herself without having to worry about her sister looking on. A few minutes later Dawn had three cups prepared, two that appeared to be more than half whip cream topping and marshmallows and the other an inviting dark liquid sprinkled with flecks of red and brown. Dawn handed her the last cup and Marianne cupped it in her hands, taking in the scent of chocolate.

“Super dark chocolate, just how you like,” Dawn wrinkled her nose. “I don’t understand how you can drink it like that, but to each their own. Oh! But I did make one little change that I think you’ll like.”

Marianne narrowed her eyes at Dawn, but took a sip anyway. Creamy dark chocolate with just a hint of cinnamon…and something spicy? She looked up at Dawn, and she giggled.

“I knew you’d like it! It’s cinnamon and cayenne.”

“It’s actually…really good,” Marianne took another deep sip and she found herself feeling a little better; Dawn always somehow knew the perfect sweet to give someone to cheer them up. The thought reminded her of something Plum had said.

“So apparently…in this past life? We were sisters then, too. And Plum said you had healing powers that could help us.”

Dawn lit up, “I was a fairy princess too?!” She smacked Marianne on the arm, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner!”

Marianne steadied her arm to keep from spilling her cocoa, “Hey, careful!” She took a sip and hummed. “I didn’t remember the part about you until just now. It’s all so fuzzy now that Plum isn’t here…like I know the memories are in there but if I think too hard about them I get a headache.”

“You don’t think the memories will change you…will they? That’s what happens in the movies, anyway.”

“I don’t think so. It feels like…like those memories have affected my personality from the beginning but I just didn’t know it. Besides, like I said, I can’t remember most of it clearly.”

"Oh, so we can blame your bad temper on some ancient fairy princess?" Dawn asked with a smug smile. Marianne rolled her eyes but didn't dignify her remark with a response.

They were quiet for a few moments while they sipped their cocoa until Dawn came up from her mug with a whipped cream beard and Marianne couldn't help but chuckle.

“What? I think I look rather dashing. Let’s go ask Sunny what he thinks.”

Marianne scoffed but smiled, her heart finally feeling lighter for the first time that day.

~*~

 “Oh, Roland. Thank goodness you answered the phone,” Dawn said, her tone so convincing that even Marianne might believe it if she didn’t know better. “Marianne just came home and all she would tell me was that it was over, but I just know that can’t be true. You’re the perfect guy for her, not to mention probably the most handsome one she’s ever dated.”

“Well, I can’t deny that,” Roland’s voice came over the speaker phone and Marianne resisted the urge to smash the thing to smithereens. She had her hand clamped over her mouth to keep herself from saying anything and blowing their cover. “But I’m not sure there’s anything that’ll convince her…we uh…we had quite the argument.” From his tone, Marianne figured Rosaline had told him of Marianne’s visit earlier. Argument her ass.

“I know, Marianne can be really stubborn. But you should have seen her face, she was devastated. I know she wants you back, but you need to do something really romantic to convince her.”

“Well now, I can do romantic. I’m the king of romance, in the publishing world and beyond. Got any ideas, between you and me?”

Dawn rolled her eyes and made a barfing motion, “It would have to be something big.”

“Oh, I can do big.”

“I dunno. I’ve got an idea but I don’t think you can afford it. I mean, it would be an awful lot…”

“Of course I can afford it!” Roland huffed, “Anything, the sky’s the limit! Money is no object.”

“Well, Marianne has always dreamed of going to Scotland. If you did something like that, I think she’d be yours forever.”

Roland was silent for a moment, “That is extravagant. But – well within my means!” He added hurriedly, “Remember I’m a multi-million dollar author, darlin’.”

“Of course. Anyway, I can pretend I’ve won a trip to Scotland. Marianne and I would ride in coach and you in first class of course so we don’t see each other. That’s how I’ll get her there. And then you can be waiting for her in some fancy hotel room with roses scattered or something like that.”

“That just may work. Thank you for being so helpful, you’re a good sister. Give me your e-mail and I’ll just see what I can set up.”

“Sure.”

“And Darlin’? Maybe it’s best you don’t talk to your sister too much about why we broke up. Better to keep her mind positive and all.”

“Of course.” Dawn’s smile was now strained in her effort to keep her tone polite. The minute the call ended she took a deep breath and rose, her hands into the air. “No one can deny: I am the greatest actress who ever lived,” She proclaimed, taking a bow.

“We praise you for your self-restraint,” Said Sunny, standing and applauding. “Brava!”

“Thank god I don’t have to sit next to him. Just hearing him on the phone makes me want to tear his throat out.”

“Whoah. Calm down sis. Why don’t you drink more of your cocoa,” Dawn gestured and Marianne sighed but took a deep sip.

“So once we get to Scotland, how will we find Boggy?” Asked Dawn after Marianne seemed a bit more settled.

“Oh, he’ll know,” Plum said, floating through the ceiling. Sunny nearly fell out of his seat in surprise, but Dawn just clasped her hands over her mouth and squealed at the sight of an honest to goodness fairy in her living room.

“I can’t stay long; she’s surely out hunting me right now and I don’t want to draw her here. I’ve thought of a way to get everyone to Scotland, but it’s a bit risky and it might not work. Unless you’ve thought of something?”

“Actually, we have, we - ”

“Good! Now when you get there Bog will sense you’re on the same continent as him again and will likely come to you. If he doesn’t, then you’re going to have to search on your own, but don’t worry. The two of you are connected, you’ll be able to sense him too.” Plum darted a nervous look behind her, “I have to go. Be careful!”

Plum flew off and Dawn turned to Sunny, “So was she the one you freed?”

“Yeah.”

“If you’ve seen her before then why are you cowering in the couch?” Marianne asked.

“Maybe you guys are used to things popping out of ceilings and walls by now but I am definitely not. I swear I’m going to start getting gray hairs.”

“Awh, you’d look cute with a few gray hairs anyway,” Dawn said.

“R-really?”

“I wish you could come with us…”

Marianne got up and left the two to their flirting, though neither of them realized that was what they were doing. She couldn’t bring herself to be too annoyed, however, as she had a sneaking suspicion that she and Bog did the very same thing. Though she would never admit it out loud.

Marianne put her empty mug in the sink and sighed. She was just so _tired._ She didn’t want to go to Scotland, she didn’t want to deal with Roland, which was inevitable even with their careful planning. She just wanted Bog to be back here. She wanted to go back to being a normal human living in a normal human house with a normal human, non-dead boyfriend. Was that so much to ask?

Marianne frowned to herself as she considered the term ‘boyfriend’. Somehow, it seemed deficient to describe the situation, but the term soulmate frankly terrified her. The idea of having such an intimate connection to someone – anyone – was frightening, but she couldn’t figure out if it was because she didn’t feel she could trust someone not to abuse that connection, or if it was because she was afraid she could only hurt someone who was connected to her in such a manner. It could easily be both.

Then there was Dawn. If she and Bog were romantic soulmates then that made her and Dawn…soul sisters?  Had that been why, despite their differences, they had always been close growing up? Marianne’s head began to ache. She had to stop thinking about all this. She was still the same person she had always been…just…a little more magical. She was strong. She could do this. She had to do this; for her own sake, and more importantly…for Bog.

~*~

“What do you mean you don’t have any more of that love potion?” Roland said acidly, but softened his tone under the force of Damhan-Alla’s glare. “I mean, why don’t you have any?”

“My prisoner escaped, but she can’t stay away from me for long,” Damhan-Alla coiled herself around Roland’s shadow once again and settled in as the day began to break. “Come nightfall I will search again, and this time I will find her.”

“Well, uh, I might be going to Scotland.” Roland said, “But I don’t know, if you don’t have that love potion…ah who am I kiddin’? I don’t need no love potion – I’ll woo her with the gifts god gave me,” Roland twirled a lock of hair around his finger and grinned. Damhan-Alla seriously doubted he could do that, otherwise he would not have used the potion to begin with, but perhaps going to Scotland wasn’t such a bad idea. It was likely there that Bog had fled to, as it was more often than not the birthplace for his human guise. Damhan-Alla could no longer shift from place to place unhindered so she would be forced to take the human way. Odd, though, that Roland was going there. She smelled a rat’s influence.

“Why Scotland, dear?”

“Marianne’s sister called me, told me Marianne is just itchin’ to get back with me but I need to do some grand romantic gesture. Said her sister just loves Scotland, always dreamed of goin’ there.”

“Really?” Damhan-Alla said dryly. The man truly was an easily manipulated fool if he couldn’t see he was being used to transport Trathnona to where, undoubtedly, Bogach awaited her. Plum was definitely behind this. But perhaps she could use this to her advantage.

“Scotland sounds like a very good idea. When shall we leave?”

“I’ve got my connections – so I do believe we can leave tomorrow.”

~*~

“I can do this,” Marianne said quietly to herself, though her tone didn’t sound convinced and neither did her expression. She was standing in the bathroom alone, staring down her reflection, while Dawn purchased some magazines to read on the flight.

“I CAN do this. I can DO this. I can do THIS,” Marianne tried, but It didn’t help. No matter how confident she sounded she was still terrified of airplanes. She had only ever been on one before – and it had not gone well. Though the flight had been short it was extremely bumpy – the plane being tossed this way and that, rising and falling at the drop of a hat. And this flight would be several hours long.

Not for the first time she wished she had something she could take to calm her down, but she would go to hell and back before she went to a doctor. It wasn’t that she had anything against medication, but she didn’t want to talk to others about her personal issues. Her issues were hers to know and deal with alone. If she didn’t want to talk about it to Dawn then she certainly didn’t want to tell a stranger just so she could get something to help her fly.

Marianne tilted her head up stubbornly at the mirror and glared at it until she felt her face looked confident enough that Dawn wouldn’t start questioning her.  Finally satisfied, she walked back out to the terminal, where Dawn was now waiting for her, face stuffed into a magazine.

“Hey, what’s up?” Marianne asked in a breezy tone.

“What’s wrong?” Dawn said immediately, putting down the magazine and giving Marianne an all-too perceptive once over.

Marianne grumbled, “Nothing.” She crossed her arms and sat down. Apparently her mirror pep talk had done no good at all.

Dawn didn’t look convinced, but took one look at Marianne’s stubborn look, shrugged, and went back to her magazine. For once, she didn't press the issue. Probably because she assumed Marianne was on edge about Roland, which was true enough, though the flight was at the forefront of her thoughts currently.

Before they knew it they were boarding the plane. Roland had told Dawn that he would arrive ‘late’ so he would board last, which meant that Marianne didn’t have to fight the urge to punch him as they passed through first class to get to coach. It was a good thing because with how anxious she was feeling she was positive she wouldn’t be able to stop herself at this point. Still, the very idea of being trapped somewhere with him only a curtain away was unappealing to say the least.

“Don’t worry, you’ve got the window seat so if you want to get up to go throttle Roland you’ll have to go through me and a stranger first,” Dawn said, reading Marianne’s expression as she looked at the first class seats in disdain.

“I’ll also have to go through you all to use the bathroom. Remind me to turn down any offers of drink on the flight,” Marianne said, stuffing her carry on in the overhead compartment and sliding into her seat. It was a little roomier than she had thought it would be, but still much more cramped than she would like. Never mind Roland; being stuck in a sealed metal tube with a bunch of strangers and their odors was enough to bother her. She glanced around the cabin and was relieved to see no young children yet.  At least there was that.

Marianne jiggled her thigh nervously, careful to keep the leg that was closer to Dawn still, as the plane started its slow trek down the runway. She desperately wished she could be in the front of the plane with the pilot. She figured most of her fear had to do with not being in control. If she could just fly the damn thing, or even co-pilot she would be fine.

Marianne glanced over at Dawn, but she was oblivious; her earbuds were in and she was dancing in her seat, much to the annoyance of the seatmate on her left. For a moment her humor overtook her fear until the plane started to speed up. Then that heart-lurching moment when the wheels left the ground and they were ascending. Marianne clutched the bottom of her seat. This was going to be a long flight.

~*~

“You’re an idiot! How could you let this happen?!” Plum yelled, and Sunny cringed.

“How was I supposed to know? I thought Roland was just a creep, not a possessed creep! Seems like that's something you should have mentioned to us at some point!" Sunny said reproachfully.

Plum waved away his comment,  “So you’re telling me that they’re both trapped on this…airplane? With Roland, whose shadow has been compromised?”

Sunny nodded silently and Plum groaned, beginning to swish back and forth across the room.

“She won’t kill them though…right? Wouldn’t she want Marianne to find Bog first so she can find him too?” Sunny asked quietly and cringed again when Plum threw the full force of her glare back on him.

“Even if that’s her plan, Damhan-Alla is very unstable. She just might end up killing everyone on that airplane of yours in a random fit of rage!”

“Shit. Shit,” Sunny fumbled for his phone and hurriedly punched in Dawn’s phone number but it instantly went to voicemail, as did Marianne’s. He left a message and texted, but he knew it was in vain. They probably wouldn’t turn their phones back on until the end of the flight. “It’s too late,” He moaned, and threw his head in his hands. “I AM such an idiot.”

“Looks like it’s back to my plan - but it’s a little crazy,” Plum said carefully.

“I’m listening.” Sunny encouraged.

“Well you’ve got elvish blood.”

“So you said.”

“It means that it’s possible that you also have an elvish soul. You see, elves aren’t immortal like the fae, but every time they die their soul is reborn into one of their kind. Not all humans with elvish blood would have an elvish soul since there are far more humans than there are souls to go around…but…”

“You’re making my head hurt. Just tell me what’s your crazy plan?”

“This might tickle,” Plum shoved her hand into Sunny’s chest and he gasped, trying to take a step back but finding himself frozen in place.

“W-w-what are you doing? It feels weird. I don’t like it!”

Plum pulled out her hand and smiled in satisfaction, “I knew it! I knew his soul would follow her.”

“Okay, you’re really not making sense right now.” Sunny clutched his chest and sat down, trying to steady his breathing.

“You felt drawn to Dawn, didn’t you?”

“Well, yeah. But it’s Dawn, I mean, how could I not?”

“I couldn’t bind another soul to the curse or it would have destabilized – but you found her anyway. I always tell people – don’t underestimate the power of love, but do they listen? No! No one listens to me – “

“Could you get to the point?” Sunny interrupted.

“I’m saying – your past incarnation knew Dawn, and was drawn to her soul. It’s just so exciting – but that's besides the point. You DO have an elvish soul, which means I can perform the bit of magic I have in mind.”

“Which is?”

“Elvish magic has to do with the creatures of the Earth, and enticing them to do their bidding.”

“And?”

Plum’s eyes gleamed, “We’re going to hitch a ride – on a dragon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait - I've really been struggling with a lot of self-esteem issues related to my writing, but I promised myself I would finish this, so I will! I had to do some re-writing and re-organizing of the story, and I think it makes a lot more sense now the way it is. Nothing is super different - just moved some stuff around. Let me know what you think, I live for your comments (and seriously, I need any excuse I can get to not hate on my writing and give up)


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